Take my heart.
Knife down the middle,
Spilling my love
Equally among the grass,
Among the sheets
We shouldn't have shared.
Take what was
Once a gift
For ransom.
For the things
Daddy never taught you

How to put your
Hands to work.
I am not your project!
Not another pile of wood
Laying in your garage
Waiting to be nailed
In a form fitting
Your tools.

Your hands
Should strengthen my will.
You will no longer
Raise your hand
At me!

I am not the
Mother who left
The child for the
Rock, at the bottom
Of your foot.
No shoes to protect

The soul of your
Very being
Here with me
Should be comforting.
A marshmallow
Gaining pigmentation,
Gooey, your arms
Closing me in
On both sides,

Your graham cracker
Skin causing heat,
My chocolate skin
Now velvet,
A sweet snack.

Let the only thing
That breaks from
Your pressure and assertion
Be your insecurities and
My shame.