Chervon

She doesn't know me,
can't say my name.
when I talk to her
a lopsided grin lights up her face.

She doesn't know how to walk.
Her dad wheels her where she wants to go.
She needs help drinking her juice.
She is scared of strangers.

She is fifteen years old.

Never should have happened,
a doctor's mistake.
Law suit won,
but the damage is done.

Sometimes I wonder if
she's more alive inside
than outside.
I'm gultily thankful not to be in her mind.

She'll never walk or dance,
give a speech or worry about romance.
but she's my cousin,
and I love her.
-srw
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