scissors and glue.

that flicker of doubt on your face
behind your eyes
the very same as mine
as you wonder
‘did i do it right?’
well, let me tell you
amidst all the photos
broken sea shells
stick figures on the fridge
there has to be something
my mind has shaded
a memory, lost
that severed this trusting connection
between parent and child.
did it concern
the never-ending screams of
a demanding sibling
was i forgotten
left on the top bunk
all on my own?
i remember that.
was it about
that clear haze of
redyellowblueredyellowblue
as i fell, soundless
waiting to be caught
the thud, shock
as i hit the floor?
staring up
i never cried
i remember that.
was it something to do
with endless dresses
shiny bows and
pretty shoes
did i really ask
to wear curtains and
wool tights
each day,
did i have no say?
i remember that.
maybe, it was
something else
entirely different
that cut the rope
that so bound us.
i stand, you stand
holding tethered pieces
separate, i wonder
would things be different
if we tried to glue them back.