I came a little alive too.

ALL THAT TALKING

Seemed to wear him right

out. He settled back down

in bed. Boulder dropped

into sleep. Guess clearing

his conscience tuckered

him out. I, on the other hand,

had no such reaction to

all that confession. Strange

voices bypassed my ears,

whispering straight into

my brain. Dead inside …

hating her … a little alive.

I remembered something.

It seemed a memory buried

deep in toddlerhood.

Mommy? Daddy? Glimpses

of slat-shadowed faces,

screwed up in rage. Screaming.

I hate you. Door slamming.

Pillow over my head against

the noise. Scrambling for breath.

MY HEART STUTTERED

With sudden clarity.

I’m not crazy.

The relentless feeling

of panic started there.

In my parents’

love-fueled hatred

Tags: Ellen Hopkins Crank
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