It was Holloween night, and I,
Eight years old, with out costume
Came to my living room to find my mother
Passed out on the carpet.
An untouched bowl of popcorn beside her-
A circle of spilled urine beneath her-
A half empty, grinning bottle of poison,
The reason for all of this.
I knelt down to her, I lifted her eyelid
I rocked her shoulder gently
I called to her, begging her to talk-
"Mommy, wake up."
My father trotted noiselessly upstairs,
Called the police, who came
Almost immediately, with their sirens,
To take her away.
The officer looked down at me
With eyes of sympathy.
And, forcing a smile, gave me a
Stuffed bunny, which I still have today.
I watched the black and white
Ambulance roll away, disappear
And so did the carefree spirit
I, as a child, knew.
I laid on my pillow, awake until morn.
I watched the darkness cry for me
Tears gliding down the window pane,
And my own down my face.
The world taught me that night
That unconditional love is a myth.
I had to realize in the hardest way
That equality doesn't exist.
I learned the cure for alcohol
Is a six month long rehab stay.
I learned the cure for a drunken wife
Is a signature and a court date.
I learned that year that poetry
Was my savior from the world.
My one gift of sympathy
From a scared and distant angel.
And I saw hand-in-hand with pain,
Stands bravery and will.
Every sob will fall silent,
And all bruises heal.
My father laughs more now,
I smile more with him.
But it took six long Halloweens
For me to go trick-or-treat again.
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