Freely

It started around March

I don't know what went first

Was it my voice or food?

Speaking doesn't come naturally
Nor does eating

My mother would cry

Honey, what have you done to yourself?

My father would cry

Lord, what have you done to my daughter?

Does it hurt I asked them

What?

Does it hurt to have your only daughter hating you
Does it hurt that you don't understand why
Does it hurt that I won't tell you why
Does it hurt

My father came to me
Slapped me so hard
That I stumbled back a little

Don't you ever talk to us that way

My mother cried some more in the background

You little brat. Of course it fucking hurts. It hurts a hell lot.

I looked at him
Shocked

It wasn't anger at first
But it soon turned to it
Like the plague during feeding time