We can agree that I love chocolate, but I absolutely adore my family more than words. So, when you read the following poem, imagine how twisted a chocolate loving addict can be during a moment of “stream of consciousness” writing that simply must happen. Once it’s out there, there is no going back. I don’t own it anymore.
I actually wrote the poem years after the actual event occurred. I just couldn’t get the vision of my mother catching us playing on the bed again, nor the real fear that I felt of getting caught out of my mind I guess. So, it made it’s way to pen and pad.
The light on my mama’s face
bounced with the springs
under our feet.
And I forget what my sister told me to say
if we got caught again.
When the light and her face were even
I could see that mama looked pleased,
justified to punish when the slats broke
And the bullet flew through my hand’s
vain effort to shield.
My spine collapsing to encompass the pain.
Fallen child huddles in blood
as the parent sniper stands
waiting for an apology.