Madeline.

The first name I was ever given

A symbol of my mother’s overbearing need to go her way or no way

Her way had no meaning

It was simply a name she thought was pretty

It’s hard to understand what

to feel when his words say

he loves me but the tone of

his voice says the only thing

he cares about is himself.

Scars stain his back

and my wrists

but the only real scars are

As our war rages on, I’m caught in a crossfire.

One side shrieks its anthem of misguided hope.

The other, facing reality’s certain dread head on.

While I, a teenager caught in the midst of battle, seek refuge.

I was sitting in my private school, around age 8

The religion teacher said, everyone sit in a circle

Don’t speak

Close your eyes

Raise your hand when you hear God speaking to you

One by one each child raised their hand

I sat