a letter that will never be sent

i must have only been 6 when you
told me you'd strangle me, or
when you slammed the fridge so hard the
kitchen shook and we, silent at the table with
our tiny spoons, could only gaze at our
cold lunches, feeling numb in the body, staring
yours on the floor like a car-crashed hurricane

i must have only been 10 when you called me
nuisance, shouted the soul out the body
only 12 when you said i embarrassed you, pushed
my adolescent frame into a clique of
snickering girls and persuaded me how
stupid they thought me, how
inept and awkward my speech

i must have only been 14 when i wrote
"i deserve to die" 20 times on college ruled
paper, only 14 when i penned the note of my suicide
in a pink notebook covered with photos of kittens,
only 14 when you lamented my inconvenience, punished
my sick, named me terrorist and ruins, said
it was so hard to mother me--my human too much


i was only a
child who felt too large in her body


i was only a
child who felt too old for her age


was i not worthy of compassion?
did i not deserve your protection?
did i not have a right to your love?

i know some parts of you tried but
how much?