Help

My father, laughter sparking in his eyes, sees me around the corner.

His grin drops, eyes narrow, but refuse to meet mine.

“Oh yeah” he says, “I forgot she ruined Christmas“. He walks away.

I still go to work with him later, he needs my help.

My mother, concerned but not talkative. She isn’t sure what to do with me right now. She shoos me out the door, but I can tell she hesitates to let me be alone. “Go take care of your brother”, she says, she needs my help.

Raps on the bathroom door, asking who’s in there. But I know the truth, they are checking for my response. They know it’s me in there. They ask me to come out, I’m needed somewhere, they need my help.

Long sleeves all the time, wary glances toward my cuffs. You all see me, I’m not hiding anything this time, just old scars you already punished me for. I’m fine, I’m healing, I don’t need your help.

You can’t seem to see my plea for help, the sad eyes and angry voice.

I push you away because I am afraid of what you’ll say when you realize that I just need your help.