Closed fist

Born inside a closed fist

They call it white knuckles

A mocking tone when I hear my own voice

Since the age of five

I want to be a child again

But not the child I was

A happy one

The stronger I get

The more broken my dad lets himself be

The angrier my mom gets

So I get stronger and smarter

Without knowing its meaning

Or why I do it

I didn’t know what I was doing

Until I met someone just like me

I’m strong like my brother and father taught me

And he explains to me what I am strong for

To belong

To be held close

For devotion

To come home

Things like that

Things I’ve never imagined