From Here (years later)

I had the greenest grass the girls at school had ever seen. My parents

saw fit to keep things manicured. I rested, unconcerned with stains or bug bites, for

what could have been hours or days. All the same for pretty me. Cherished me. Nurtured me. Things 

happened and I, laying in the grass, did not blink or wince. I, fingering the blades

and blowing kisses to hippos in the sky, did not know or flinch. Except to bat at a hairstreak’s kiss.

I had the softest grass a girl could hope to lay in. But somewhere, life had happened and someone 

cried. 



Feb '14

Resistance

Resistance

I was 12

With round framed glasses

Attempting to become my own version of Vanessa Huxtable

All straight A’s and one-liners.

I was sprawled out on the rug

My face in a book -

Goosebumps or Babysitters Club or something with a choose-your-own ending.

In the suburbs,

I’d never heard a gunshot

Never kept the oven door open for warmth.

And a bang on the door startled me

Even though we had a doorbell

(because why would they ring the bell if they could pound on the door)

They were

Looking for my brother

I remember smiling

Because not too long ago

It had been “people in your neighborhood day”

And I knew all about the good men in blue

Who would help me get home if I lost my mom at a street fair

Or could make sure men in vans didn’t follow me home from school

But they didn’t smile back

At 12 year old me

Or say please or thank you

When I said he wasn’t home

Even though I could hear WuTang blasting from his stereo

My first act of resistance

And as they made their way down the front steps

I swear I heard one oink

And saw the other’s pink spiraled tail twitch underneath his slacks.