︎
The Scar On My Head
Orest Yaslinskiy
Fingers gripped the chrome bumper of the green car
pushing, laughing, stumbling
my cousins and siblings next to me
up the grape covered drive, we went
children’s laughter so careless so free
my dad in the driver’s seat
full of praise and mock admiration
his foot gently on the pedal.


the next time I saw the green car with the chrome bumper
my confidence brimmed like the 
exhaust smoke rising to the sky
fingers gripped, legs pushed
muscles straining in vain
as the green car lurched
                backward
                my body did the same.


Axle spinning towards me
I reach to grab the pain away
eyes closed

My uncle’s bearded face
an urgent calm
eyes closed

velvet blue back seat
more pain
eyes closed


in the hospital bed, eyes wide open
my numb head bandanged
dad next to me
offering me a guilty apology in the form of a 
blue toy truck
and while he chatted with nurses
the car made its way around the snowy white blankets
up the leggy hills through blotches of red


At home the glad faces surrounded me,
admired me, for the first and
last time, my mother urged me to join
the run and play, but
my tiny heands gripped the blue toy truck
and my timid body hid behind her legs, 
maybe in time, she would protect me

Maybe. 

11:50:37
Monday Nov 5 2018