Status: This is a verse novel. Warning: Involves abuse.


my lips are stitched up
with thread embedded with the voices
of my brother, my sister and
my poor mother;

I cannot see the end of this
poorly-lit tunnel that may be what
some call my life -
all I can see is his face in mine,
hear the snap of his belt,
sense the rage pouring from his skin.

I will not escape the monster
in my mind,
in my home,
in the very essence of myself,

because the only thing I'm good for is
keeping the secret.