He Says He Love Us
by Amber Beck
But there is a brick between
our teeth.
It is solid and sharp and
tastes of dirt and appeasement.
It has cut the insides of
our cheeks
hundreds of times
so we are more often than not
tasting blood.
There is a brick between
our teeth
but it isn’t between his.
My father has never known that copper taste,
or the feel of his teeth chipping
one by one.
He will watch us,
ask us to tell him what’s wrong
while he holds our jaws closed
so we can’t release the brick
and damage his fragile heart.
There is a brick between
our teeth and his stare
has always felt violent
but when he got on his knees and begged for forgiveness
I pointed at the brick
and shook my head.
There is a brick between
our teeth
and it is named hatred.
My sister, mother, and I
have never known a different taste,
always forced to breathe through
nostrils.
I want to tell him that
if he released our jaws
the bricks would fall and
he could stand on them and
appear taller
but his grip is too tight and
besides, I think my jaw is locked.
I am no longer sure
I can taste anything else.
I am afraid to find out.
There is a brick between
our teeth.
I don’t think it’s always been there and
I have a feeling it won’t always be
but my mouth has begun to bleed again and
so now I must focus on not
choking on my own blood.