I, As Witness by Adriana DiGennaro

Did you think
after all that
there would be no record?
I, as witness
hereby document

the way I hid terrified
under the covers, even at nineteen,
pressed there by what I heard
behind the wall
to your room
where a shrill stranger was unraveling
scream by scream

and the thrashing that sounded
hollow on the plywood wall
like you were
installing shelves

the curses, meant for me,
a tantrum
a ferocity
the room a box
slowly filling with
what you struggled to release

and when
you'd exhausted your body
blown out your siren
and fallen into bed
descending hard like the twilight
Mother
did you think
you would not end up in a poem?