my fourth year

the apple tree that fell on my sister
the car that talked
until the bank took it back
my father standing on the porch while the rest of us hid from the tornado
my giraffe pajamas
i found out what professional wrestling was— and loved it
scraping my leg on the concrete wall
losing my tonsils
telling my mom i hated her for making me take that disgusting orange medicine
eating sugar out of the cupboard
dreaming of women
i would ride my babyblue rocking horse for weeks
rolling the grain of my bedroom floor
the purple light-bulb my mother would put in the bathroom
i would get so excited to see that way