Souvenir

She didn't want me, didn't want him to be happy either.

So she kept me, not as a son, as a reminder,

a thing she could punish in his place. She learned to hate him through

my face. Every word he ever said, she poured into me like acid

in a bottle. She fed me pills, not to help, but to make

me quiet, to make me move when she didn't want to.

She said, "Take these. They'll make the pain go numb." What she meant

was, "They'll make you easier to use." She trained me like a dog,