If you took a knife to me
peeled back my skin
Wiped the blood off my bones
You would see a word etched there
Silvery threads stitched like old scars
across arms that never quit learned to heal
Each lung holds a voice
One with moms sweat stories
And another with dads old songs
I inhale arguments
And exhale
Nothing
My roots are connected to a car
Plane
Train
Anything but Stability
At school I drew family trees with broken branches
Holidays are calendars split in half
They say children are resilient
But resilience is not peace
It’s learning to hold your own hand
while both halves of your world wait to love you
on alternate birthdays
Being me is
Being born with a fracture
not in my body
but in the blueprint my existence
I grew up mapping love
tracing which parts of me belonged
Mom
And the rest left to
Dad
If you peeled back my skin
What awaits you is the silver cursive of
D
I
V
O
R
C
E
Divorce is my legacy