Home Sweet Home
By Mia Stelly
Past judgements stick on the fabric of my being, lingering like a wide eyed child.
Always skin to skin, sweaty palms encasing my arms, leaving no room for individuality.
High pitched incessant talk, never ceasing, never stopping to breathe.
Shooing them away is seemingly painless, yet when I try, sharper thorns pierce my skin.
Each time I pluck the bloody weapons from my bruised skin, the wide eyed child reminds me, “I’m here to protect you”.
Humming, buzzing words escaping their mouth at the speed of light, pains me like a stubborn migraine.
The pain increases til a slight touch sends me screaming, I could say it’s all the blame falls on them, but I’d be lying.
I long to say the words “i told them to go away”, but I know that won’t be possible as long as the clock keeps ticking.
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Jenni ShulanMay 5, 2022