forgive and forget

mama

Vanitas Sculpture Study by Aleksandra Devic

dear mama,
i don’t want to fight 
with you anymore.  

it’s hard to describe the sound 
of bone meeting wood.
but i memorized what it was like 
when the left side of my skull
made hard contact
with that solid oak doorframe.
a bite into a ripe apple —
loud, wet crunch.

it happened so fast,
a thunder clap echoing
through the house.
warm blood trickled slow
down my face and
my vision clouded in scarlet. 
i felt my body drop to the floor,
my shaking hands
clasped across my scalp
while you towered above me.

i thought if i held onto myself
hard enough,
countering the pressure of my brain 
hitting the side walls,
that the ringing in my ears
would drown out
the sound of your voice. 
“i should’ve gotten rid of you
when i had the chance.”

i remember dragging myself
across my bedroom floor. 
the cold wood
scraping across my knees 
with my face to the ground. 
red tears staining
on the way down my cheeks. 
a slow crawl in
dead silence.

it’s hard not to think about 
the look in your eyes,
pupils blown to kingdom come
in the dark of the hallway.
face to face with
a monster in place of my mother,
an empty entity. 

dear mama, 
if i promise to forgive
and forget,
would you braid my hair
one more time?