I grew up in the confinement of your rage.
Adapted to it, trying to prevent it, contain it,
Hide myself away once I realised that I
Embodied a catalyst for it.
You robbed me of protection.
You exposed me and walked away from
Your acts of negligence.
I never managed to stand firmly on my own two feet.
I took part in the wars that waged inside of you.
To feel closer to you, to connect with you.
Stand by your side.
You gorged on the attention I offered you.
You’d never be satisfied, your suffering was endless.
I needed to be endless.
My childhood cure. The medicinal daughter.
I listened to your mental illness.
To your insults and abuse until I burst
And promised myself that you won’t make anything out of me anymore.
I wouldn’t put anything into your hands anymore.
Nothing that belonged to me.
No matter what I’d do you’d be outraged, disgusted, revolted.
So be it. You begged for my life to live it yourself.
And you watched me disintegrate in my teens
In service to you.
The violence you spread to make everything collapse around me
As you were screaming about death and forgiveness.
I grew old as a child in a house where I had to fight for my life.
And you labelled it love and care, the flames that burned my skin,
You told me to be trust your never-ending baptism by fire.