inca dove Hide the evidence, under paper towels Nine more seconds until the timer goes off Tell me a story, hold my hand Where I am the hero and he’s not the villain I know I hate it here Where every storm feels like the end I thought you’d at least give me that dignity I’m not yours I am depleted of my hope Little boy I could’ve sworn I had seen once In the doctor’s office, waiting for test results Dancing indents across my thyroid and throat I was too young to know That his love would touch me even now Pray to God Doing all the right things, the suggestions And I try hard And it doesn’t work I’m tired of his anatomy still following me Bending to his reign around my brain Too tired of dreams, too tired to stay