darleneBrother
I don’t hate you
Not even a little bit
‘Cause we were little kids
And we were sick of it
That’s why I spit poetry through speakers
Pointed at the people to inspire
Lighting fires to illuminate the darkness
Brother, I remember when Mama would leave us
Abandoned for days on end
I remember you fell and cracked your head
Then cried as you bled
I remember the day
I walked into a broken house with broken picture frames
And glass all over the place
A phone book ripped in half
Like your heart
‘Cause Mom chose her boyfriend over her kids
She kept changing where we lived
She quit her job as our mother
So Grandma would pick up the slack
And to stab her back
You attacked
The hallways and bedroom door
Brother, I remember those things and more
Like when the ambulance came to take you away
Padded rooms and apple juice for the tormented mind
of an 8-year-old
Now you’re on lock-down
Prison walls slammed to your core
But for you I see open doors
A path that leads a famous mural artist home
To be the father we never had
A kind, intelligent dad
With a supportive wife, big house and a dog
Mama’s boy, Mama’s keeper
She’s too old so you feed her
Heart healed
Hardness melted to a soft seat comfort chair
Everything you need is there
I love you
And not a little bit
‘Cause we were little kids
And sick of it
That’s why I spit poetry through speakers
Pointed at the people to inspire
Lighting fires to illuminate the darkness.

-Darlene Chavarria