Once at age 6,
Wrapped in princess patterned sheets,
She stared at her ceiling as a nightlight rotated visions of dancing constellations around her head.
She slept with a stuffed cat that she loved. And a bear. And a blanky.
And she hummed her mother’s lullaby.
Her father kissed her on the forehead and tucked her in every night.

Once at age 10,
Wrapped in polka dotted sheets.
She stared at her ceiling as hushed insults trickled from her parents lips under cracks in doors and holes in walls.
She slept with the stuffed cat that she loved.
And she hummed the theme song to the cartoons her and mommy watched that morning.
Her father tucked her in some nights.

Once at age 13,
Wrapped in purple sheets.
She stared at her ceiling as mommy’s boyfriend slid into her room to run his greasy hands down her tummy.
She slept with a light on.
She hummed shallow breaths.
Her father visits every other weekend.

Once at age 17,
Wrapped in black sheets.
She stared at the ceiling as the handsome man next door held his hands over her mouth as he lay into her.
She slept with him when his wife was out of town.
She hummed seductive notes in his ear.
Her father stopped visiting altogether.

Once at age 19,
Wrapped in no sheets.
She stared at the ceiling and let man after man touch her spoiled skin as they entered and exited musty motel rooms.
She slept alone, unless they paid.
She hummed her mother’s lullaby.
Her father hasn’t called in years.

Once at age 20,
She wrapped her daughter in princess sheets.
She stared at the ceiling as saltwater swelled down her cheeks.
She slept with an angel by her side.
She hummed her own sad lullaby.
Her father was gone, so was her baby girl’s.

Once at age 25,
Wrapped in soft, white sheets.
She stared at the ceiling as a man that loved her, and her daughter, held them close.
They slept by his side.
She hummed his love songs.
Her father never gave her a chance, but this man did.