The Numbing

I let myself in with my sister's keys.

The door looks crooked compared to the next identical.

The cats don't come to the door,

they haven't missed me.

I still give them head scratches,

because that's what they like.

I would eat raw noodles out of the packet,

but I can't find any around.

I own everything in my room,

but nothing of value.

These days I'm just waiting for the DS battery to run low.

Her anger rattles the walls and their bones,

relentless even when I was the one to offer help.

You say you were the same so why,

oh why, can you not let me be?

Why do you not forgive?

Did you really hate yourself that much?

Let me help, let me help,

even though you should be the one to know better,

even though you are the mother and I am the child.

You slash a wound with a blade and then bandage it,

but I will still feel the sting 

even when you can't see the blood. 

My skin is already filled with invisible scars, mother,

please don't make another one.

Please let the next blade be dull or muffled

by the numbing of my limbs.