Stephanie

Stephanie, I learned to stay quiet before I learned to read

Tiptoeing past broken glass and broken sleep

Walls heard everything we weren’t allowed to say

I learned fear before I ever learned how to pray

Sirens in my chest every night in my bed

Listening for footsteps, praying rage skipped instead

Kids at school talked about home like it was safe

I lied through my teeth just to keep a normal face

I watched doors slam like thunder in the hall

Watched grown men act big while I felt small

And you stood there — silent, staring through the smoke

Like survival meant pretending nothing broke

And maybe you were hurting too

Maybe you were drowning slow

But I was just a child, Mom

And I needed you to know

Stephanie, do you remember what I saw?

Or did you learn to blur it all?

I was begging for protection in those halls

But silence was the answer every time I’d call

Maybe you were tired, maybe you were numb

Maybe you convinced yourself it wasn’t what it was

But whether by choice or just by default

I still grew up carrying all the fault

And now I’m here breaking curses you ignored

Trying to heal wounds you swore weren’t yours

I learned love meant pain, meant fear, meant hide

Learned to shrink myself just to survive inside

Every scream carved something deep in me

And you looked away like you couldn’t see

Bruises don’t just live on skin, they stay in bones

They follow you long after you leave those homes

And now I flinch when voices rise too fast

Still trapped in memories everybody says are past

You tell people, “She exaggerates, she’s fine”

But trauma doesn’t leave just because you deny

And now I’m grown trying to raise myself again

While you act like none of this ever happened

And maybe you did your best

Maybe broken was all you knew

But I was just a little girl

And I still needed you

Stephanie, do you remember what I saw?

Or did you learn to blur it all?

I was begging for protection in those halls

But silence was the answer every time I’d call

Maybe you were tired, maybe you were numb

Maybe you convinced yourself it wasn’t what it was

But whether by choice or just by default

I still grew up carrying all the fault

And now I’m here breaking curses you ignored

Trying to heal wounds you swore weren’t yours

I needed a mother, not excuses

Needed shelter, not confusion

Needed someone to say, “I’ll protect you.”

Not someone teaching me how to endure abuse

You didn’t hit me — but you let it happen

And silence cuts just the same

And now I carry scars you never claimed

While you still won’t say my pain’s name

Stephanie… I wish you knew what it cost

Growing up feeling already lost

I’m still learning how to feel safe at all

Still catching myself waiting for the fall

I don’t hate you… but I needed more

A mother who’d stand between me and the war

Now I’m healing the child you left unheard

Trying to believe I deserved better words