I Wanted to Be Heard
I talked, she listened, and I was heard
Wait here my teacher said,
we need to talk. Kept after school,
sitting alone in the room, empty desks
and me, in my place, afraid not to sit
where I always sat, wondering
what trouble my younger siblings
had gotten into without me, my job
to watch them.
Sixth grade, I was 12 during the day,
but grown up to my little brothers who
I fed and kept alive after school, but wished
I was five on the mornings I just wanted
to stay in bed and hide.
Single mom who shoved us out
the door at seven, then worked
doing the hair of old women, drenched
in cheap perfume, smoking under
hair dryers, waiting their turn,
never happy until she sprayed
an entire can of hair spray to piles
of curls on their gray heads, shaped
by big curlers and held tight by
her magic… every piece of clothing
she owned had that smell, the scent
of musky dead flowers, hair spray
and cigarette smoke.
