You may not realize,
but I remember the crashing and the screaming,
The helpless pleading,
mostly directed at me.
I remember it so well,
The feeling of being shattered
by a family meant to hold me together.
Being chased but unable to run away.
Forced to stand and bear my shameful tears,
in a room filled with mockers.
If they beat me Seven times Seven,
could I refuse my forgiveness?
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