Childhood
I don't play with dollies...
Barbie and Ken were sold to
a little girl at a garage sale
many years ago.
My crayons are motionless
and my coloring books have
faded yellow with age.
All my games like Chutes
and Ladders, Monopoly, and
Life are packed in a box
somewhere in the attic
collecting dust.
My mother no longer tells
me to go to bed
Or to be in at ten o'clock.
She doesn't kiss me
goodnight or tuck me in.
I close my bedroom door
by myself at night.
I undress in the blackness,
for the nightlight burned
out long ago.
And when I crawl into my
single bed, I reach for my
teddy bear, and tears
fall into the darkness.
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