“Who the hell do you think you are?”
Mother red-faced and angered
Threw her bottle at the car.
I hugged my Bear, worn and mangled,
Kept quiet ‘cause I’m good.

“Ma’am, we have the best intentions.”
Blueman guided me outside.
My mouth was full of questions
As we made a silent ride.
I kept quiet ‘cause I’m good.

“What’s your name, my dear?”
“Sir, she won’t respond.”
“Unlike her mom when she threw that beer.”
Made my bear fish in a pond,
and kept quiet ‘cause I’m good.

Smiling and talking gently,
A lady rested in a chair.
I twisted my hair quietly
As she said words like “care”.
I’m quiet, aren't I good?

“You’re safe here,
You can tell me everything.
Your mother is nowhere near.”
Tears, to my lashes they cling
as I try to be good.

“Are there also hurts on your back?
Tell so I can help you.”
But telling came before a smack,
Mother making sure I knew.
“Be good, be good,” I try, I try.

“I’m Hope, I’m six,”
Playing with my jumper’s hood,
“My mother plays mean tricks,
says when I’m quiet, I’m good.
So I’ll be quiet as long as I should.”


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741