My father stumbles in

Feet tripping over-

Heel toe, heel toe

At a quarter to 2

-Am, of course


My mother is asleep in her bed

When he tells me that

She can no longer be the one

Who makes him feel warm

Like Jack Daniels,

Or a woman named Elizabeth


She looks like my worst dream

Come to life

In mirrors

And salt

-when you’re supposed

to add a pinch


My father falls into blue black


Gets enveloped in

High heels and girls

Far too pretty for his values


He sees this,

Watches the years pass by


Like the time I kicked

Soccer on the field,


My mom brought the oranges


While this has gone away,

I feel his palms sweat

Clam up

Gone to sleep


Because it is a quarter to two

And I need to feel

The weight of my chest


The singing of the hummingbirds

In the morning




My mom wakes the next day

To a woman who no longer feels alive


I can not help to look in the mirror

And the woman on his dresser,

Dangling her legs

Like a person

Who never knew what it would be


How it would feel like,

To have a daughter




I feel sickness


On the edges

Of my veins








In the cabinet




At A




My fingers are numbers

And my nails are painted


And my mother

Doesn’t think I’m pretty anymore


Looks at me,

As if I am


Talking to myself

In a mirror


Self Respect


And the top of

My forehead

With a crease


The scar on my knee


The bent ankles and back

She calls



Four times a day

Driving the car


Back and forth

Up and down




I have reached the inability


To break


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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