I was the quiet child with eyes cast down,
hid in the shadows, shrinking small,
while we wore the guise of a family crowned,
and smiled for the world, dressed up and all,
our “perfect life” a brittle wall.

In our home, storms would break and swell—
a father’s voice, a crashing wave,
a mother bending to catch and quell
the pieces left for her to save,
while praying for strength, though none she gave.

We fled our land for a brighter shore,
dreamed of peace and kinder years,
but found old wounds turned raw once more,
as hope gave way to hidden tears—
and no one guessed our smiles hid fears.

A lonely child with secrets kept,
I clutched my silence like a prize,
and walked the path where sorrow slept,
until the past began to rise
and brought me back with sharper eyes.

Now as a mother, I face the night,
where buried memories stir and ache,
and hold my children close and tight,
to guard the love I’ll never break—
their tender hearts, no harm shall take.

Each day, I learn to heal the seams,
to weave new warmth from threads of pain,
unlearning shadows and shattered dreams,
so love may bloom without the stain
of anger’s curse, of bruised refrain.

This journey now is one of grace,
of mending wounds I thought would stay,
for healing is the light I trace,
reclaiming joy along the way—
and finding peace where scars once lay.

I was my father’s mistress growing up.
It brought my mother great relief.
Taking the pressure off of her.
It made my sister jealous.
I was daddy’s favourite.

Entirely justified in his mind.
An outlet for the outlet.
When my mother’s needs boiled over.
His relief deemed necessary.

I became a mistress to all.
Temporary relief. Eternal grief.
Pressure to both disappear and perform.
Every man’s favourite.

For my worth was written very young.
My purpose well defined.
Serve. Please. Relieve.
An invisible slave.

Today I am no one’s mistress.
It brings me great relief.
I see through. I see you.
Forever familiar. No longer preferred.
The pressure on me is not mine and all mine.
All mine to let go.
I am my own favourite.

The past does echo. No longer fate.
I’m more than the burdens of hate.
Chains unraveled. Shatterings whole.
With every breath, I claim my name.