scene: seventeen

Sat in my car she held my hand and asked me, "what scene are we?”

I smiled softly,  behind my eyelids, green skies, blue grass, and 

Disney marathons.

Teacups filled to the brim of imaginary water, real tears breaking the threshold of what once mattered.

Let's ignore the moments that ran my blood cold, 

was it the fear of not having a home?

or maybe it was the judgement of the law trying to silence the voice of the coloured.

Growing up too fast, afraid to fall into the cycle of the past. 

Was it that? or was it only seeing dad every once in a while?

Let us ignore once more those who were chased and targeted for who they chose to love,

let us turn a blind eye to the depletion of the prettiest of skies. 

For these moments mattered no longer if I had a pretty Barbie doll. 

Which scene woke me up? turned from gentle plays to harsh words 

I squeezed her hand and replied, "scene seventeen."