For Attention

I was ten when I learned I could hold

my breath, long enough to make the adults

come running. At the traffic lights, after school,

I tensed ’til my face screeched

with blood, stars. I shattered two teeth on the concrete,

was made a fuss of. It wasn’t enough to ask for love.

I needed panic. It was the language, the formula

I understood—harm yourself love will follow.

My tiny face, found suspended in the coat rack, looking

for attention, cord from dad’s dressing gown

in a double-knot ’round my neck