On his left forearm there is a cross,
a spaceship, and an infinity symbol.
He scars with a rusty putty knife, tells
his little girl, “I cut myself for God.”
His arm is buttered popcorn.
She looks down at her hands, blonde
bangs in eyes, says, “I don’t cut myself.”
Her father has robots in his backpack.
She has an empty lunch bag and the leftover wire.
Her voice is gonna have to be enough and break
the insanity of her father’s inflictions.
Earth is hard. She will have to step soft to
kill father’s lies and stand plucked in song
Annieepoetry 