Single File Lines
Every day I joined single file lines.
One for breakfast.
One for school.
One for rec.
One for meds three times daily.
One for group.
One for meetings that parents never showed up to.
One to the movie room to trick you into thinking you were a normal teen that had sleepovers and ate junk food and watched cheesy films with her best girlfriends.
One back to our rooms because it was lights out and we had a long day of lines ahead.
Little did I know that I was being groomed.
My ability to wait is nearly immaculate.
The urge to ask for permission is embedded.
Use the bathroom.
Make a call.
Have a snack.
Leave my room.
Be a person.
Yes. But first?
Get in line.
29 year old woman from the obscure hoods of Atlantic City, NJ. An involuntary nomad with no sense of direction and a heart of tarnished silver. (Gold is overrated) First time mother to a one year old and just navigating life as a disabled black woman with a pen.