Tricycles to bicycles,
And a new pair of glitter shoes
You wear band-aids
Like stick on earrings
And macaroni necklaces

That you made
Just last Tuesday In daycare,
When you should have been home
With me, to watch sponge bob
And eat pb and j
Im sorry, I didn’t make you a sack lunch

Instead, today you skip the hot lunch line
Head to the bushes out in the lot
Now laced with hazy smoke
And rough whispers
Your eyes are darkened

Not only by the thick eyeliner
But the bruise
Your lover, your boyfriend
Left on your face
He kissed it, and apologized
Im sorry I didn’t kiss it
And kill him

You learn from
Yellow stars on spelling tests
And one night of terror
After your first OD
I should have hung your test on the fridge
And slapped you after finding pot
Under your bed
It was beside one of your black heels

They remind me now,
Of your glitter shoes
And your macaroni necklaces
But all you wear now
Are hospital bands on your skinny wrists
And pale green paper dresses
We could have bought a dress for prom

But now I buy a dress
It doesn’t match the casket
Not something you should notice
While you lay your daughter
In the ground
Beside dried blood
And worms

That you used to bring to me
And scream Mommy,
Mommy it’s a snake
And I’d kiss your forehead,
But turn away
Just as I am forced to do now