The glass chips over a decade of not understanding of being too young the truth hidden the expectation of understanding and not asking questions no ones knows anyone really Fathers left Mother’s shrank Brothers a painful memory cousins i did not know it's easier to think I would have hated to know them what if we’d been friends? what if they shared my secrets? I’ve seen women who travel in packs their laughter an affront to what I’ll never know to think a girl can tell me her cousins would return home and reveal all that they swiped in their purse And I grow jealous that they even have a story to tell I contort who i am for a taste of what they have It was never the same I have seen too much without knowing much at all It ages a child to see but not know to exist but not feel I don’t let myself wonder no family is perfect but it doesnt mean the fractures don’t pierce the skin and find their ways Into my heart, lungs and mind I carry their trauma in my bones Quick to cry Empty mind Rash judgement Cruelty I wouldn’t know compassion if I’d ever met it It surprises me Instead of warming my heart I don’t believe it because the second I do Cruelty am i her mistress? I would do what she says If i could feel whole for once Always existing in the in between of what i know not to ask and what i wonder