Before the car pulled up, yanked away
my identity, 07 Chevrolet 
placed it there in the unused ashtray
swimming in the lightning storm that day
arms out eagle wide, it would be my last,
last free day before ‘me’ decayed

thirteen years old, branded, leveled, sold
their laundress teen, their secrets I’d fold
become a number, my cell patrolled
rewarded when I help lock the deadbolt
to my own damn cage, government issued
They count cents, commissaries they stole

To buy Dodge Chargers and Kay’s jewelry 
while they scrub my skin raw, rebrand me
going from girl to state property
they said that it wasn’t too heavy
the weight of turning fourteen without your mom
Shut your mouth, let ‘em get ya shiny