First comes the anger.
The anger.
The anger directed at THEM.
At him.
How he is constantly scolding her.
Constantly pointing out her mistakes.
Constantly saying how disappointed he is.
Disappointed.
In her.
Anger.
At HIM.
At how HE has always done this.
As if he were her father.
But he is much worse.
He has made her cry herself to sleep.
He has made her run away.
To escape from him.
From his yelling.
From his hurting her.
From his scaring her.
From his making her hate him.
And she hates herself for hating him.
Then comes the sadness.
How could she?
How could she hate him?
Who he is...
How?
The tears as she runs.
Nearly blind her.
her sobs rack her body.
As she cries into her pillow.
She has tried to be bundled up.
But this time,
It doesn't work.
She cannot bundle herself against it.
She cannot bundle herself against herself.
Against her crying.
Against her feelings.
Against her hatred for herself.
First the anger.
Then the sadness.
Then the tears.