Warrior

I take out
what I always keep in my pocket:
my picture of
Mother,
Father,
and Violet.
It’s been folded
so many times that
white creases have formed

s
t
r
a
i
g
h
t

u
p

and

h o r i z o n t a l l y a c r o s s

the middle.
Not to mention it’s faded.

I’m not surprised.
It is almost
100 years old.

But the people in the picture

are always the same.
Father is on the
left side
with his arm around Mother’s shoulders.
Mother is on the    right side     
and has her hands on
each of Violet’s shoulders.
Mother’s hair is    
m e s s y
and Father looks like
he needs a shave.
kulay-lila doesn’t look
at
all
good as well.
You’re probably wondering
why I’m not in this litrato
considering it is
my family.
Here’s the thing:

I
am

d e a d.