& the joke goes, how many mothers does it take to change
a light bulb?
& the punch line falls silent because
there is no mother here.
now i am expected to change all the lights when they go out.
i am five when father’s light goes out.
& this is the first time my mother turns me into an electrician,
i have to learn about the wires of schizophrenia,
have to learn that if one wire is crossed the wrong way,
you can start a house fire.
i am seven,
when my house burns down
& i make it out alive.
now i have all this knowledge
on how to change a light bulb
& how to escape a house fire
but still no mother,
only a father with wires
that are crossed too often.
i am sixteen & i am still searching the sockets for my mother
still learning how to swim through the tangled wire
of my family
still learning how to swallow the shock
that sits inside of my mouth
i am twenty-four & every time my father calls,
i let it go straight to voicemail,
let his voice ring like a smoke siren
that warns me i will be nothing but burned here
& i wish i knew how to change light into lineage.
wish i knew what it was like
to have every light on in the house.
& i have built my own house now
i warn everyone who touches a light switch
that i am one wire away from being a house fire
all i know of light is
that it burns
all i know of family is ash
& all i know of home
is that it is always something
i will have to run out of
& the joke goes,
how many mothers does it take
to remember there was a daughter here once?
& the punch line falls silent
because now there is only an electrician here
learning to keep the lights on in her own house.
