The hills roll off the landscape of the wooden deck
that wraps around the house like a soft blanket in the middle of the night.
Inside the large wooden home of my grandmother’s
My small family has gathered for a make shift celebration.
Mother in her white dress, the pink flower frill on her arms,
Father in his cheap suit jacket and pants, no need for a tie
And me, playing on the floor in my little light pink dress and shoes.
I watch from my perch in the future
As they cut the cake, twist their arms and go to feed each other
Mother smearing some across father’s teenage mustache
If only I could stop them
Tell them what a mistake it was for them to have signed those papers
Pleaded, please… please!
Go back, undo it
Don’t do this to yourself
DON’T DO THIS TO ME!
Desperation turns to outrage
I scream for them to stop
But the aunts and grandparents only go on with the laughter
Someone hands past me a small bit of cake
And I eat it
Completely unaware of my life to be
Blissful in my young ignorance