Abgott | poetry

everywhere his hands went

I stopped existing

no matter how hard he looked

and touched and rubbed

he’d never find me

I made myself small

and my body concealed me

and my whereabouts

look alive

enjoy

this is for the both for us

trust me

this is a good thing

do you see how happy you make me

with my little hands

with my little fingers

childhood is a state that your gestures end

you rub me open

and when my mouth finds words that a woman would speak

you shut me down

and insult

intimidate

belittle

ridicule me

by saying that I’m just a child

what do I know

what a vivid imagination I have