Member-only story
Child’s Play
what do you say when your parents start to talk to you about dying?
laying the plans, telling you the code to the safe, while you sit there trying
to wrap your head around why it has to happen,
wasn’t it just yesterday though
I was sitting in your lap or watching you run,
where did the time go?
the warm lit living room as mother cleaned
the sound of speakers and floor banging as daddy dreamed
my little brother was outside, and we ran and played
I wanted that time to pass but now I wish it was today.
now I drive my own car and take care of myself
no longer does my mother ask my father for help
they always said you don’t know you’re in the good days till they’re gone
I don’t want to believe that
I refuse
I won't say that like some sappy song.
little me is crying
I wish I could go back
to sit beside my child self
in my closet with my trophy dance plaques
unknowing what to say, I’d probably just stare
but for a moment I’d be back, and I could play with my hair
run my fingers through and touch my bow
listen to my Barbie's dialogue and somehow know
that I’m sending a message we turned out okay
life is going to be hard but for now this is child’s play.