I guess I can be thankful
That payphones are rare to come across
One less reminder of the child that never got to be a child
In photographs it doesn’t look like me
My therapist pointed out that I say “it”
So far removed from that little girl
Could be a stock photo in a frame

I carry so much with me
Fractured memories but some are sharper
The darker ones seems to be the trend
Mother shaking me awake
We need to leave
No time for shoes
Climb over the patio wall
Go quickly quietly don’t look back
If anything happens run just run okay
My bare feet on cold concrete felt like we walked for miles
Gas station payphone you start to dial
I’m looking at you now

Your face is all running mascara and blood
I don’t know what to do
You don’t tell me what I should do
So I go inside and get some napkins
Clean your face up for you while you sob
While you find someone to pick us up
That’s when the cycle started for me

I learned that night that if
I don’t know what to do
I should just take care of someone
Anyone
A loophole to feeling helpless
Constantly of service
Patching up wounds so that I don’t notice
My own

My feet are cold but I have the urge
To make someone else feel better