Dear Spector
You were never a man.You were a shadow that breathed. You didn’t shout. You didn’t need to.Your silence had weight.
Dear The Girl I Hurt
There are parts of this I won’t defend.And parts I can’t explain.But there is no version of this letter where
Dear Me, Age 7
I’m sorry it took me this long to write back. I know you waited.I know you stared at that door
Dear The System That Took Me
You meant well.I think. You saw the bruises.You saw the burn.You ticked the boxes and filled out the forms.You removed
Dear Mum, You Never Asked Why I Screamed
You say you don’t remember. The burn.The cupboard.The way the walls echoed back my voice and no one came. Maybe