A tot, still inside a carriage, I
Unwittingly observed a sudden death.
In babytalk, I tried explaining: truck,
Boom, bye-bye. Pointing to my doll, I screamed,
“Girl broke.” My mother laughed, insisting, “No.”
A toddler, fanning grandpa, sickly pale,
I pray while holding his hand, beloved man
I spend each day with who, unlike my Dad,
Enjoys my company. When he goes limp,
Adults escort me out. “Gran needs me now!”

I scream. “He’d rather be alone,” they lie.
A teen, adjusting wood Venetian blinds,
To see who’s lighting fireworks, I spy guns
Inside a car as sirens suffocate
The peace. “I dated him,” I told my Dad.
“Let the cops know!” He hissed, “You’re mistaken.”
Reality’s uprooted, frankensteined
Into a dismal shape. My words became transformed,
Cassandra-like, provoking disbelief.
My truths remained green, stuck between my teeth.