Why Mama? My Mama!

My stomach grum, grum, grumbles on,

The lights flick, flick, flickered out,

Mama’s swollen eye no longer visible,

Evidence of just another clumsy accident.

I breathe

The keys are jing, jing, jingling together.

Door opened wide to floors glow, glow, glowing bright.

An inheritance mama said, no more hunger or darkness.

Mama never said, but I knew, no more clumsy accidents.

I breathe

The bright, clean floors,

The uninterrupted electricity

And the food in our bellies

Kept the pain and the darkness away.

I breathe

Every day I am munch, munch munching

Because mama can go shop, shop, shopping

Twenty-Thousand dollars bought me a life unencumbered

By pain and worry

I breathe

For the first time I am play, play, playing

It feels so free, free, freeing

I have toys, I have friends, I have Mama

And Mama is safe

I breathe

Elementary school came and went.

Puberty came and went.

High School came and went.

Mama didn’t come, but went.

She died slow, slow, slowly they said,

Yet, no one had heard her scream, scream, screaming.

This was no swollen eye,

This was no clumsy accident.

I breathe

Now I am all alone, lone, lonely here.

I must go dig, dig, digging for answers,

To all consuming questions no one could give me.

Why mama? My mama!

I breathe

In the garage, old bikes, tools and toys.

In her desk, stationary, stamps and pens.

In her bedroom, her scent.

But in the dining room, a single creaking board.

I breathe

I begin pry, pry, prying it up,

The board is shift, shift, shifting around.

Pop! The board lifts free from the surrounding floor.

Inside lies a single, small and worn duffle.

I breathe

Hesitantly, I begin, pull, pull, pulling it out.

Falling back to the wall I begin unzip, zip, zipping the bag

Eyes closed, I timidly reach inside.

My fingers clumsily grasp onto it’s single occupant.

I breathe

Clasped tightly I slip it free.

A single, black leather-bound notebook emerges.

I feel the weight of its meaning.

Tenderly, I continue my quest.

I breathe

A single elastic band holds its secrets close, close, closed.

At it I being, pull, pull, pulling.

What will I find?

Do I really want to know?

I breathe

The front cover is tease, tease, teasing me.

The possibilities are end, end, endless.

Timidly, I reach for the leather-bound cover.

I turn.

I breathe

The pages reveal: names, deeds, numbers, keys and dates.

Clearly stating who, what, when, how much,

And where to find the proof.

The last date, the same as mama’s last breath.

I breathe

What should I be do, do, doing?

Who should I be trust, trust, trusting?

So many questions, first being,

Am I next?

I breathe

Should I be hide, hide, hiding?

Or should I be run, run, running?

Could I let mama go without justice?

And yet, who really was my mama?

I breathe

Grasping for strength, I decide, I find.

The key, the box, the proof.

I copy, I seal, I mail.

I watch.

I breathe

The officers raid, raid, raiding.

I see them haul, haul, hauling.

Them off to a dark hole,

Like the one where their secret was hidden.

I breathe

With the proof, I begin burn, burn, burning.

The money, the tainted money, I begin give, give, giving it away

For my mama, I begin grieve, grieve, grieving,

For a woman I never knew.

I breathe

With the money gone,

So were the shiny floors,

Uninterrupted electricity

And endless food.

I breathe

There will be no clumsy accidents

There will be no ‘inheritance’

I breathe