Residents Inside my Head

My cheerleader asks,
If I’m on jv this year, I make varsity next year, right?
And the year after and the year after that, right?
What happens when there aren’t teams to cheer for?
Then what?

My truth says,
One child knows it. She is mute and invisible.
She wears a purple sweater with matching socks and a bow.
She sits in the middle of the classroom.
Her face is streaming.
She wants to tell you.

My doorkeeper sits with the door wide open,
with a miller lite in one hand
with a lit Marlboro in the other.
He is in someone else’s home.
He listens to the family’s voices telling me
what went wrong in my childhood.

My happily-ever-after is eating her poisoned apple.
This is my destiny, she says.
She lies dying in her most luxurious gown
still waiting to be kissed.

My loneliness counts the clocks ticking as tears.
She sleeps to them reminding herself that
they are not heartbeats of a lover, though
she is always touching herself to the ticking.
And my kindergartener?
It is always nap time when I find her.

And my mother?
She turns out all the lights to save electricity after five pm.
It's forever dark, but there is always cold rice and warm water.
My father has his back to me.
He is so sorry he cannot cry.
It's just
always raining.

And my heart caught a cold;
it is how she lost her voice.