Collateral

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like

if my parents had never met. If the fates

had never aligned, if they’d never stumbled upon

each other in grocery store aisle 7,

soft hellos and small smiles all leading up

to where we are now. Stuck in the space

where right and wrong collide,

leaving traces of good and bad

in the girl they created. Who am I to judge

the choices they made at my age?

It’s collateral damage, now it feels guilty.

Does it really matter what I think

after all is said and done? After knowing so much,

together or separate don’t seem like

choices anymore. The product of misrepresentation,

the forgotten consequence of loving someone too hard.

But now, there’s nothing I can do but sit and wonder

what it would be like if my parents had never met.

Abi Rhee