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Loves
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She Was Blamed; It Wasn't Her Fault
“It was her fault
She was wearing that skirt
Practically asking for it”
No
No she wasn’t
She was 15 years old
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17
on the night that you broke your eyes open,
cried into candy packets you found at the petrol station smelling like gasoline and regret
in your still-standing baby teeth like slabs of sugared marble there were
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dear mother, are you really mine?
sometimes, i lay my head against my mother’s chest. i think. gaze up at her. and this time, when i look at my mother, i see. i see a powerful woman. she is nothing short of beautiful.
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Silhouette
I looked
otherwise unaltered
used to stand
