She reminded me how brave I am
for constantly working to heal myself
from the wounds you gave me,
when you screamed so close into my face that I could feel your spit on my cheeks,
when you raised me in a battlefield
with nowhere safe to go.
She said she was sorry that all of these things ever happened to me,
that I was treated this way.
She hugged me,
and I said, “It’s OK.”
She said, “No.”
“No, it’s not.”