Lightening
Lightning strikes again,
Brightening the clouded sky,
Like a camera taking your picture.
I don't want my
Picture
Taken. Not now, while She yells at me,
Shaming me, proving me inferior.
Not now.
Lightening brighter.
"Whoa," I exclaim in surprise.
"Sorry," I whisper, burrowing into my coat,
hiding from Her, and her disapproving expression
Hiding from my shame
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