The Daughter who Inherited silence

The woman is covered with purplish handprints. She wears it like it’s an art piece.

On school days the woman can be seen on the streets. She peddles her wares to take care of their children . She’s home in time to have his food ready for him.

Every night it is a repeat performance. His reasons for throwing the contents of her hard end dinner changing like his mood.

Sleep is her only escape as she is adorned with more purplish colors.

My strongest memories never show the woman ever being happy, or the man never being the reason for her despair.

My memories are so strong because they birthed me.