I prayed in Carolina
That night you found the gun
That I could know the difference
Between your highs and lows
That if and when I woke up
That storms would name themselves
That I’d be braver than my brother
And being scared would get so very old

I guess I knew then
In the deepest layer of my thin skin
Your bark is broader than your bite
And even though it would be quaking
My voice consistently called you out
For being what we all knew you’d been
Just a girl scared of drinking
The poison of your father
And the bitters of your mom
And all of them