"Mother, May I?"

smell of liquor
clings to her

she's had too much
    again

knife in one hand
the bottle in the other

screams

something hit the floor

i run

behind the wheel
she's driving

way too fast

stop

"stop it!"
I yell

crayons left in the sun
melted
shapeless


help

written
in the mirror
in Barbie-pink lipstick
and a shaky school-girl hand

hidden under the bed
maybe she won't find me
maybe she never will


tears and sobs
drenched
in
her liquid sorrow
she clings to me

a hug of sick desperation
too needy
too tight
for my tiny frame
my arms bruise
under her fingers

a push pin

Maggie.
stay with me.
fake 
long blonde hair.
one fixed
green eye
pink
plastic face
toddler smile
ragged
blue dress
grandma used to say
you looked like me.

dog shit and broken glass
abandoned bowl
useless leash
he left
should have named him "lucky"

picture frame shattered
splinters on the floor
she  broke me
left me ripped in pieces
guess she doesn't love me anymore

"mother may I?
take two steps forward?"

duck, duck goose...
ring around the rosie
stealing cookies from the jar
years have passed
childhood is now so far

"mother may i?"

well I'll never ask to go back.