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Weak

Jan 26

I am weak.

No one can help me

fight this.

 

I feel,

I feel too much,

most of the time,

 

And she is like me. 

I cannot

dismiss

 

Her tall dreams,

as I spend my days

with rhyme,

 

Hoping

she feels some of this,

as she goes

 

Like electricity. 

Her words

can hurt.

 

I feel,

I feel her on the inside.

And she knows

 

This. 

I know her too well;

an introvert

 

In loud outfits. 

I would give

Anything

 

To spend

an afternoon

In child-speak.

 

To be close again. 

I feel. 

I would bring

 

The girl-child

I am,

and my antique

 

Memories:

She was given

a pink rose

 

By one of the nurses,

to take

to me

 

When my son was born. 

She counted

his toes,

 

And I kissed her lips

softly,

my sweet-pea.

 
 
 

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