14 years ago.
Six years later
Was the death of my grandpa.
"Papaws gone," they said.
He isn't coming back," they said.
"No mommy look! He's right there!"
So young
I didn't know.
I didn't know it was his brother.
Two years later.
There was a slip up in the bathroom.
"We have to go to the hospital," they said.
"How did you do this?" they said.
Ten stitches on my chin.
One year later.
Organization.
Alignment.
Everything must be THIS WAY.
Four years later.
I refused a relationship.
Why?
What was going through his mind?
"He's in rehab," they said.
"You did this to him," they said.
I did nothing.
This isn't the doings of me.
One day later.
Tears.
One day later.
Tears.
One day later.
Tears.
One year later.
Now.
