sabre/saber

sabre

do you hear me

when i’m screaming

.

do you see me

when i’m drowning

.

i wonder so much of my existence

am i really existing

.

or is it all a game to you

and your unseeing sight

.

.

.

i cower in the corner you backed me into

soft spoken words

.

my soft spoken words are met with harsh lines

and hard strokes

.

like handwriting that threatens a page of parchment

or winds that force a blow so strong - all your belongs are good as gone

.

but me

what can i do

.

i’m not strong

or tough, like you

.

and me

what can i do

.

i’m not rough

or brash like you

.

.

.

•

.

.

.

so me

with my tiny shoes

i think i’ll leave

that’s what i’ll do

�"

Val, of moms words