my perfect photo family

a crisp photo, freshly printed, is held in my slender, quivering hands
sniffling, i carefully pull the frayed edges of my indigo hoodie over my wrists
the one that engulfs my petite body
through glazed eyes, the shapes and colors blur
but
if you manage to look hard enough, and squint until you see every hidden detail, 
maybe you can see how everything is slightly off, just a little bit crooked 
 a perfect family with perfect smiles with perfect children in a perfect background,
all a little misshapen 
maybe you notice how the teen boy,
the one with a curly mop of black hair sprouting from his scalp, 
how his grin is just a little forced, as if someone if instructing him to show his teeth for just a moment 
maybe you can see the devilish curl of smoke drifting up from behind his back
from a recently lit cigar, stuffed with fresh weed, and he, looks longingly back to it
maybe you notice beneath the elegant gloves that cover the mother’s slender wrists 
there are thin, nearly clotted cuts that dot the edge where the thin sleeve of it end
next to browning stains of blood 
maybe you overlook the father’s muscular jawline, and clean-shaven face
freshly scrubbed with mint soap
and focus on his flexed knuckles gripped around his wife, white and pulsing with pure anger 
maybe you manage to look past the hue of his iris,
and rather the disappearing whites of his eyes
how they grew rigid and displayed a madness I wished wouldn’t ever be unleashed
even though it had far long ago
maybe you observe how the little girl’s hair
beautifully pressed in the front in neat curly pigtails,
 is just a little tangled in the back, and her innocent, wide eyed expression
is filled with horror and unmasked fear
maybe you see how her two of her fingers are squeezing the edges of her
quaint gingham dress,
tight enough to leave a dirt smear against the worn, faded pattern,
as if it was the only thing keeping her from letting go. 




or maybe, in the end
you just see a perfect family with perfect smiles with perfect children in a perfect background 
the drug laced smoke turns into the tip of neighborly bonfire,
with dots of children racing around it
the suicidal cuts turn into mere cat scratches, easily sealed with a bandage
and forgotten the next day
the aggressive, almost threatening hold turns into a passionate loving squeeze
and the steely eyes are simply adjusting to the harsh Arizonan sunlight 
the small girl with eyes that tell of untold horrors
is just concerned with a couple of young boys 
sword-fighting with some dirty sticks they discovered on the patchy grass
in the perfect background
and so, maybe you are fooled into thinking that everything is fine 
even though it’s not
maybe, in the end, all you see after all
is my perfect photo family, just like everybody else.