I tried to hide from you,
but the little sparkles of glitter
in my hair betrayed me.
The stuff won’t come out,
it marks me and humbles me,
dragging me back into the past,
a reminder of the fateful day
when the glitter gun exploded.
Now I carry it with me everywhere
and find bits of it every week —
sprinkled on my pillowcase,
tucked into my sock drawer,
winking at me from my dog’s nose.
I can’t scrub it out
(lord knows I’ve tried)
and I can’t ignore it…
It’s always there,
the tiny pink elephant
that follows me everywhere.