Courtney: Concrete Poem

Home.

Remember when dad

Crawled in the attic to put away Christmas

Stuff? And mom was too drunk but dad stayed, never had enough.

I remember when we sat at the small cluttered table. Things were fun, even

If they weren’t stable.  I remember the nights I hid in my room. Crying and mad, wanting to

Return to the womb. It was where we were scarred and where we

Were healed.  And dad came to after a days work in the field. Where

I learned to love writing while I escaped to find my truth, and I anti

Cipated the fairy that wanted my tooth. I couldn’t wait to leave and

Couldn’t wait to return.  Where I became who I am, with all that I’ve

Learned.  We can try to leave and roam. We can come back, too. Home.