Scars on the outside

All these years later

I still have the scars

On my knees

From that 7th birthday

When I had guilted

My uncles into buying
me the bicycle

I had wanted since 3,

Telling them I ought

To have it because

My mother was in the hospital

And although they knew

I was not old enough

To balance on that world

They bought it anyway

And I being too small to

Quite reach the pedals

Could not stop when
I reached that rough

Patch of asphalt

And fell

Scraping my knee

So bad I had bandages

On it for weeks

And band aids

For weeks after that

Yelping out in pain

When my aunt finally

Yanked the last one off

I couldn’t believe

How much it still hurt

And how much less

I loved that bicycle

Like all dreams that

Come too soon

And are gotten

Too easily.