This water runs cold.

It would have been good enough for me,

But not for you.

I run it through until it’s warm

To wash your face 

And dry your eye

From tears you cry 

From what he said.

I remember well the dread

I felt when he would open his mouth

To draw a breath to speak some horrid word.

All contempt, and jealousy 

Proceeded from his tongue and teeth,

Words of pathological cruelty 

That kept us in our places.

But you have me,

And like the moon,

I have many faces.

One to counter every snide remark,

Every sarcastic bark that bites so deep,

I’ll keep at bay for you,

If you’ll learn to heed my word 

More diligently 

Than you consider his.

And maybe by seeing what’s good enough for you,

I’ll learn to be true to myself, too,

And learn to heed the word within,

Instead of paying any mind

To any of the shit he tries to feed us.

-jenn