Think About Me
Photo by Anastasiia Chaikovska from Pexels.
I wonder if when you pinch your fingers together to seal the plastic bag you think about when you would squeeze my cheeks until I said ow
And told you
“I’m not a little girl anymore”
Or if you think about wiping the dirt off of my face with your thumb you licked while you seal the edges of the leaf around the green
And I would say
“Ew Dad, stop it”
Maybe you do think about me
About what friends I have
About what music I listen to
About how I’m doing
What I’m doing
Who I am.
I say “I wonder” but I know it’s more like “I hope.”
I hope that you
Think about me when you’re sitting on the bed that feels like guilt and regret
Think about me when the robotic voice on the line tells you to state your name
Think about me when your cellmate asks about your family
Think about me, dad.
Did you ever?
Do you ever?
I wonder,
Do you think about the little girl with tears in her eyes
Or the thirteen year old girl cursing you out
Or the sixteen year old girl driving to come see you
I wonder,
Why didn’t you think about her?
