Nicole Johnson

She grows in a world

Of raised voices.

Her father yelling.

Her mother crying.

He charmed every room

Smiled in the front row of every recital.

There for scraped knees.

Everyone thought he was the cool dad.

Mama quiet, misunderstood.

Behind those muddled eyes,

no one noticed

Just how still she stood.

For every bruise

There was an excuse.

You did this.

So I did that.

There was a war in that house,

no one could see.

She learned to shrink,

to keep the peace.

Holding her breath,

Like that was love.

Shoulders tight,

like that was enough.

Every shout

Made her smaller.

Every corner,

Turned to armor.

She called it strength

when she swung back.

Just learning how

To survive that.

He tried to smooth it over.

Said she misremembered.

Said it never happened

like that.

And for a while

she believed him.

Now she startles

at footsteps behind her.

Back to the wall.

Eyes on the door.

Voice sharp,

Before anyone else can.

Still fighting a war that’s over.

There was a war in that house,

But it wasn’t hers.

Just a child,

learning to endure.

I see you now,

standing motionless in the doorway.

You can breathe now.

Exhale.