after Langston Kerman

 

& then my sister unbelieved the bullies

& turned the lights on, alone with her husband

& threw away the plastic surgeon’s brochure

& spoke without hands hiding her face

& quit explaining the scars

& wasn’t stuck at 13, afraid of her locker

& the whispers didn’t chase her anymore

& she stopped binging to fatten the scars off

& bent down to pet a neighborhood dog

& saw that our love was love — and not pity

 

but when she looks in the mirror, she wishes

it had been me instead.

 

 

 

Jessie Bacho is a NJ writer and English adjunct at several local colleges (she likes to collect parking stickers and lanyards). In her spare time, she enjoys recreating scenes from The Muppet Show with her two sons.  Her work has been published in Ars Poetica, In Other Words…, and Prism.