You were that green blanket.
I slept with on the couch.
We were poor and I didn't care.
It was the only life I knew.
Coffee mug through Television glass.
I still carry pieces of shattered aftermath.
I was the baby. Youngest of four.
My brother the keeper kept my eyes
fixed on the door. A broomstick to the window and out into the storm.
We were runaways
On rainy days
We'd find our place
Our escape
           From the storm
From our broken handlers
Bullet hole filled soul
Of our father
            Taught that life was anger
And comedy
And pain
And sadness
             Blindfolded battles of epic
Telekinetic brotherhood
             Black eye light bulbs
Putting our heads underneath the pillow
So we don't have to hear anything
Pretending to be asleep
            Watching wrestling
Like it was the only thing that mattered.
            Going to church with grampa
And gramma
        Her hand would shake back then
But she would always smile