Babygirl, why does it seem you’re always runnin’?
Sitting in a chair or lying in bed—
Like you can’t get far enough away
From who you could have been?
Instinctive, like a mother,
Slamming the brakes, arm cutting out—
My body more protective than a seatbelt.
I wish I could fling myself in front of you,
Stop that little juggernaut.
Remember when we were younger,
Sitting by the creek?
You smoked your cigarettes down to the butt,
Not knowing what to do with them,
So you handed them to me.
I tucked them in a plastic box
That once held sandwiches I had brought.
At the time, I thought
I could hide your messes forever—
Like a sin eater, cleansing you
One piece of litter at a time, saved for later.
But I was wrong. I couldn't fathom
The monsters you’d behold.
—My appetite not enough for things so big
after a sandwich by the creek.
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