Alone

“Listen,” my cousin says. Listen to my lips and the way that they part; cracked broken lips. Listen to my hands and the way that they tremble when they see fire or a stove, remembering the moment when they got forced onto one, forcing them to remain ugly forever. Listen to the way my heart thumps when that person gets closer, never out of lust. Listen to the way my eyes search for something better, a new life. Listen to my hips, and the way that they get pushed and shoved around. Listen to the bruises on my arms and legs, and the way that they scream for help. Listen to the way that my back gets punched, and the way that it gives out when I need it most. Listen to my head, and the way that it thumps when it's being pointed to- never with fingers. Listen to my sweat and tears that people have heard but never responded to. Listen to the way the neighbors shut off their lights when they hear doors slamming and furniture breaking. Listen to the way my blood rushes through my veins, and how often it reaches the surface. Listen to the locks on the door that close, separating me from freedom. Listen, and forget.”