T Minus 40: Baby Jail

It was dark when I awoke

I could stand up

I could see over the spindles

The railing was chin height

I was small

Trapped in the baby jail that was my crib

He was there

I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him

I must’ve cried out, so he came in to see

Something felt wrong inside

I looked down to see his stocking feet

Blue socks

My first memory of him is blue socks

In an instant they were covered with something

Something that came from me

It happened quickly

They turned from blue to orangey-green

Like the stuff from the jar

The stuff they put in my mouth

Did he speak? Did he swear?

I couldn’t say

I was picked up

removed from captivity

and carried away.

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