flashback

The kitchen light is way too bright,
I’m staring at my plate,
My mother’s talking ‘bout her day.
I try to nod, I try to smile,
To be the girl she knows,
But suddenly the floorboards fade,
And the cold begins to freeze my toes.

I know I’m sitting in this chair,
I see the steam rise from the tea,
But my skin is crawling somewhere else,
In a room that’s dark and far from me.
The smell of him, the weight of it,
The way the air turned thick and still—
I’m fighting back a ghost’s own hands
Against my very will.

"You’re quiet, hun," she says to me,
Her hand moves toward my own.
I flinch before I realize
That I’m safe and I am home.
The terror’s screaming in my throat,
A jagged, heavy, silent plea,
But I just say, "I’m tired, Mom,"

I can’t find words to tell her why
My eyes go blank and wide,
Or why I’m drowning on dry land
With nowhere left to hide.
I’m tethered to a moment
That she doesn’t know exists,
Still wrestling with the shadows
Of those heavy, phantom wrists.

I think there is something wrong with me :(