When I was 8 I asked God for a little sister and
to never have to spend another summer at my grandmother’s house.
The next day my father left like all too familiar rolling stones
for big stages and fast woman
My mother decided that her education and new boyfriends were
more important than remembering that no matter what a daughter says,
that a mother’s love is always wanted.
And he killed the wrong grandmother.
I learned that you should be careful want you ask for.
For years, I have thought that our connection was as unreliable as
A boy telling you that you can’t get pregnant the first time.
Is my life the lesson you want someone else to learn from?
When I asked you to remember me
I didn’t think you would start our conversation, last name first
Enlisting my body to a no man army,
Sometimes I feel like I would have been better being left your unmolded clay.
When I asked you for a intervention
I didn’t know it would be in the form of
Double parent disappearing acts.
When I was a kid I remember believing in believing.
I am now sentenced to doubting the very hand that you
said would always be there for me to hold.
I edit our conversations so I wouldn’t be the only
one that doesn’t have a story with you as the main character.
Don’t pass by me another day without letting me know
That you still have a smile the Devil envy’s
A heart that is the baseline of our footsteps.
Hands that holds broken dreams in his spare time
Arms that never get tired of holding this
broken pot I have made of myself
A back that is still strong enough to carry my sins
A nose that smells the truth
Even I stink of fairytales and little white lies.
Ears that hear my screams late at night in alcohol pillow
And a shadow that protect me,
Even when we I stopped protecting myself.
These days my only wish is that you become my hero again.
This 8 year old is still waiting for a miracle.
Waiting to stop thinking and believing again.