My bones break from the weight of trying to stay small, like a child
Don't raise your voice, my darling, that's not ladylike, my mother whispers
Her sour words always find a way through my skin, covered in stained pink fabric.
I can't breathe, I try to say, but I know she doesn't really care
I can feel my ribs crashing my lungs
But I stay still
I know
If I'm not small enough
I won't fit in her heart anymore.
