m&m pancakes

Your red rimmed eyes

pleaded for me

to marry a different kind of man

I remember

soft cocoa powder dirt

slipping through my ruffled socks

as we hid

in the back yard

rushing to grandma's

gritty voice crackling over the phone

innocence pooling off of my tongue

begging to go back

you still wiped at my salty eyes

sobs taking away the gift I was given

threats bombarding my utopia

I remember m&m pancakes in the morning

freckles interrupted by

purple bruises and gnarly cuts

my dad's soft baby blues

reveled the lost,

veiny glare from the night before

distrust and forgiveness mangled my heart,

I thought I was his little girl.