Trauma-Scars

[Revolte]

Kindness keeps your blood in your head
–the trauma-scars say all of it–
while rage holds its image in stills
captured through years of abuse
–like when my face kissed your window.
And there is not a secret left untold
about how vexed I am.
Enough that I fear no difference shown
when I am gray.

Because of that, father
I can not allow you there
when a new me sees the sun,
for the first time.
It must remain bright, high
and proud.
It has to be what you are not
so that history remains in motion
and that I am left unshamed.