Chapter I : Not Ripe

Fourteen in July, sitting on the hood of his Ford in the orchard Drinking warm Dr. Pepper out of a plastic cup He’s got my daddy’s same slow drawl, same red dust on his boots Told me I was getting big, told me my mama used to look just like me at my age Watching the light bend through dusty glass I leave my skin right there on the seat Float up high in the summer heat Just a peach hanging off of the limb Looking down on the shape of him "Keep it quiet, don't say a word Protect the name, don't let it be heard Your daddy’s got enough on his mind without you crying to him" Close your eyes and hold your breath Count to ten and fake your death You're not ready, you're not whole I wasn't ripe when it took its toll Walking back home through the muddy ditch Frayed at the hem on every stitch Just a bruised windfall down in the dirt Trying to wash away where it hurts Mama was in the kitchen frying squash in the skillet Daddy was out on the porch laughing with his brother like nothing happened Looked in the mirror at a face that belonged to the orchard Heavy branches hanging overhead Clinging to the life I left for dead I wasn't ready God, I wasn't ripe yet And I didn't know that was just the beginning I didn't know it wasn't a one-time thing Locked in the bathroom, vomiting in the sink Just a rotten fruit left out in the rain It happens again, it happens the same Again (again and again) And again (again and again) And again (again and again) And again (again and again) Not ripe yet Not ripe (again and again) (again and again) (again and again) (again and again) (again and again)