I offered you hair and limbs and my voice
-your hair, your limbs
my voice didn’t want to leave
so you etched it into my body
my voice in particles
stutter, daddy, stutter, stutter
I am still talking
my voice looks like you
like the blood on your hands
like the scars that nobody perceives
the scars that tell me that I’m surviving
but he didn’t
he chose to jump
that scar is a skin of mine
that scar holds me tight
keeps me up at night
vigil bright
that scar is a new birth
who comes out of there alive?
Croque-Melpomene 