Driveway

She was battered and bloody,

at the hand of his wheel.

A broken heart shattered,

unable to heal.

I scooped in screaming-

my baby in blood;

shock on my brain,

my words turned to muck.

He stood there staring,

no emotion to find.

I tried to console him

(I’m always too kind).

Warmth of it touched me,

thighs covered red.

My brain catching up,

she could’ve been dead.

Her scooter in pieces,

marled and crushed;

time holding still,

while the med team rushed.

I rode in the back,

her screaming in pain.

Tears filled my soul,

when she gurgled my name.

Mama mama!

My head sunk low.

How could I fail her?

Why was I so slow?

A fierce little fighter,

no drug could take her.

She wouldn’t sit still,

and no doctor could make her.

My pasted on smile

(til it dried plaster);

Blood and stitches,

a nightmare disaster.

Three years too smart.

We never saw him coming.

Barreling to her,

and I started running.

I know it’s my fault,

I’m supposed to be everywhere.

Mama, superwoman,

who never gets scared.

Three tiny sidewalk squares

determined my worth,

As mother and human;

and I couldn’t save her.

You relay in constant,

how little I must care;

but of all the heroes,

Mama was there.

(I keep being told I am physically to blame for what happened to her. I know in my absolute soul that’s not true. I was there. But, as the person she runs to, I blame myself that I didn’t sense it before it ever happened. Also, fuck you for making something so traumatic for all of us that were actually there, even more traumatizing. Grow up and stop being a bully. Some of us actually love all of our children, all of the time)