Hush, child. 

You didn’t see me sweep you under the rug with the blunt-side of a paddle. You didn’t think it was anything but to be expected. 

You aren’t to tell the world about the pain of being punished for not eating your dinner. Let alone any adult standing five inches in front of you. 

Hush, child. 

You’re not a person filled with fears, or dreams, or wondrous imagination. You’re really only the fragment of me that I never intended to be. 

You can’t grow beyond the bounds of what has kept me small and angry. You’re not to expand outside the shallow box I dug for you at birth. 

Hush, child. 

You’re only to be seen, but even then no more than a mere glimpse. Most definitely never heard, or encouraged to speak or you’ll know the hurt of my heavy hand. 

You cannot tell me what you think, or feel, or want to say because your words are as immature as the emotions I have for myself. Don’t question me, because I’ll never answer. Not you or anyone who dares ask. 

Hush, child.

I didn’t plan on you being anything but a cooing baby, and even then you weren’t high on my list. Don’t remind me that you forced my life to bend and sustain your own. Don’t let me realize that we could have grown together, had I only known. 

Hush, child. 

I can’t allow you space to exist while I am still struggling to see myself as me. I cannot accept you as your own because I never accepted the shell that coats the innermost parts of my being. To accept you means to hold a mirror to my face and I only dare look at one when I’m headed out someplace. 

Quiet the children. 

Spoonfeed them silence. 

Teach them to take the day old leftover waste that we didn’t want in the first place. 

Give them your pittance and breed them on pity. 

And never allow them the courage to speak. 

Not ever. 

Not ever. 

There is power in voice. It carves out challenge and change. To speak truth to the old ways would mean they’ll not do as we say. 

We weren’t allowed to venture, to embark, to conquer our bullies, our barriers, ourselves. They shouldn’t be able to either. 

Why envy them, when we can simply limit? 

Why encourage, when we can discourage?

Why empower them, when we can silence?

Hush, child. Go to sleep now. Tomorrow is a brand new day and you never know what it could bring. You never know what we will say or do. You never know what it could mean for you.