Many people seem to forget 
That there is more than one form of abuse
My daddy could be a rampant, careless man
With clenched fists that can crush you like a tin can
But my mother could invoke feelings of inferiority
With harsh words that stab at the heart
"You're so stupid. I don't wanna talk to you," she says
If only I could hit restart
Or call a truce 

Instead, I remove myself
Left feeling weak
My mind begins the constant critiques
It's like playing Russian Roulette-
Will the inner depths of my mind spare me
Or be the end of me?

I know I can never speak to her of such things
Because all I'll get in response is, "get over it"
"Does she just hate me?" I wonder
Perhaps emotions are like the rings of a ripple
One stage leading to another-
Physically to mentally then lastly, emotionally-
Mankind's tripled pitfalls

But I shroud my feelings with sarcasm and wit 
And let people make assumptions as they see fit
Because kids can abuse too
Hateful insults they spew
Maybe that is why I am just a simple recluse

As few will will ever deduce
That there is more than one kind of abuse