what you don't know won't hurt me

My childhood was spent without a mother 

An older sister who forged her signature and filed in the forms 

To a grandmother who cooked for me and let me sleep in her bed

A mother who laughed in my face when I told her I felt alone 

A mother who called me useless and stupid when I couldn’t find what she needed 

A mother who only cared about me when she could boast to her friends and slap me down in a single breath 

A mother who I think might love me but I know she doesn’t like me 

A mother who didn’t know my favourite colour until I was 11

A mother who couldn’t stand to see the little girl who followed her word like god

Become a son she’ll never accept exists 

A son who made her weep with the very words she branded on to me 

A son who would be thrown out and lied about 

A son who keeps himself locked in a box in the back of a closet she’ll never get to see