Get Bodied

My Mother told me today, after crying- thin skin on forehead
folding, like angry arms, from the pain
she said today she felt like the day she
would have committed suicide a decade or so ago
this time caused by my stepfather, a upside down mirror of
my Father; his incessant
hubris soured further by his consumption
was a root all of its own, the mantra repeated
I do not blame that young woman, a little
older than me, racing down the Tacoma freeway
unbuckling herself/disabling the airbags
aiming for the underpass where she could fly
beautifully serene glass glittering her cheek
through the window, face implanted in the asphalt
she says
"400,000 in payments for the children when
I pass, it was an accident, they will all go to college and
live happily, without me."
Alas, it was us she thought of, before deciding to perish-
apparently it was my brother's eyes, my little sister's smile,
and the crinkle face I make. she buckled back in
heading home. Into the arms of her children, an iron hold
that perhaps might be better.