Once I was a little girl.

A little girl whose Daddy wound up on her bottom bunk.

A previously vacant bunk.

a bunk which now held the heavy anvil of two people out of love,

weighed down by money or lack thereof,

weighed down with sadness and regret and two once,

very , very healthy hearts, hearts that beat in perfect, symphonic unison.

now, two  broken pieces of a whole.

Once, I was a little girl who’s
“mommy and daddy no longer loved each other”

who’s small, sweaty second-grade palms stroked the tightly bound covers of “a man’s guide to divorce”,

placed so neatly on her father’s office desk,

silhouetted in the thin lamplight

of regret and the shattering of innocence.

A girl who pranced into school with a fake smile plastered on her face

like the Barbie dolls she once aspired to be,

a girl whose quivering whispers reached the ears of the boy in the desk over,

who looked over with a sympathetic glance.

but no,

no.

he did not understand.

Once, I was a little girl who was sculpted into a statistic.

“50% of couples in america get divorced” said mommy to fourth grade me,

“by the time you graduate high school, all of your friend’s parents will be divorced” lied daddy.

“mommy and daddy still love you very much.” but not enough to keep the flame alive, a selfish thought that crossed my mind.

Once, I was a little girl who slept over at her friend’s houses.

Who longed for the moments spent at their family dinners.

family dinners with a mommy and daddy and sisters and brothers that were not mine.

dinners spent in happiness and a complete-ness I had been robbed from,

robbed from since the first night daddy spent in the bottom bunk.

robbed from since the tears of disbelief in fourth grade.

robbed from since the lies spoon fed, so very carefully, spoon fed to me so that I would not be worried, I would not be sad, I would be okay.

Once I was a little girl,

Whose parents taught her

the only way to solve a problem,

was to run away,

was to glide your hand across court-ordered papers,

was to give them the tv but to keep the refrigerator to yourself.

the only way to solve the problem was to split up with it

force it out of your life forever, and watch it crumble to pieces

as it slips out of your fucking selfish hands.