Dear Mom, Why I Left

How did I just notice, more than a decade later
the dramatic theater of what had happened?
The church grounds were a stage for a run away;
I fell into the arms of brutal men to mend.

Your words bit into me as you turned
around my misery to make it yours.
Desperate for comfort I was forced to leave,
turn away from your slammed doors.

I dreaded the inevitable criticism and badgering
and the feeling of not being enough.
When would I ever be adequate?
My anger fed your caustic rebuff.

So I would walk out, throw a fit and leave
wishing this place to be a home,
a safe place to finally rest my anguish,
but instead I was forced to roam.

I was only sixteen and thought I knew.
I thought I was so mature
but I found myself crying like a little girl
from cruel words I wasn't able to endure.