Day one.

(April is National Poetry Month so I'll attempt to write/post a new poem every day. You have been warned.)

Tell her about all the days

that won’t ever leave your skin.

Tell her about the time

you took your childhood friends bowling

so their mother could pass away at home in peace.

How you booked them a lane and paid for a game

only for them to sit on a tabletop,

backs towards the pins,

holding each other and crying.

Tell her about each time

you hear the sound of your mother's voice

your sister's voice

your best friend's voice

when they describe unwanted touching, boundaries crossed,

their voices sound as easy, as casual

as admitting we're out of milk in the fridge.

Tell her about your grandparents’ most recent date

at a fancy restaurant:

a night off from cooking,

a chance for them to get all dressed up

and out of the house for a change,

only for it to be erased completely

from your grandfather’s mind a week later.

Tell her about watching your grandmother’s face collapse

when she realized that

as much as she can play nurse,

no amount of healthy foods

or pills taken like clockwork

will prevent the love of her life from

eventually forgetting her own face too.

Tell her all these things

when she asks you to define the word

powerlessness.