Emmaye

Anna Zinn

 

Emmaye, my giver,

I turn my back to you with only the slightest regret.

You hid me from my fears, and now I hide from you.

I have come to fear the fire that glows in your disapproving eyes.

I fear your hands that burn as they strike.

Emmaye, my giver.

I plead with you to withhold some portion of love for me.

To be loved and wanted and nurtured could save your child.

Yet you forsake me, you forget your own.

I hid from your hand and you ran from me.

Emmaye, my giver.