It’s just a memory.

I hear it.
No.

No. No. No.
Not again.
The snap


My stomach drops so fast I think I’m going to die.

I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I can’t get enough air.

He’s yelling.

Every word hits before the belt does.

Stupid.
Worthless.
Useless.

I curl into myself,
waiting for it,
counting seconds that never end,
begging inside my own head for it to be over.

Please.
Please.
Please.

I’m not a child anymore.

So why does my heart keep screaming
he’s coming
he’s coming
he’s coming


Then why does it still hurt
like it’s happening
right now?