Letting It All Hang Out

She rides to treatment today with her knees drawn to her chest. She’s reading the book I started, and because she isnt the one driving she has now gotten ahead of me. The words drip off each page and fall like petals into her lap.

Treatment today will be filled with questions I can hear ringing in my ears. Why was she at the party? Didn’t we discuss her not being at the party? Did you observe her? I did. I think so? She’s hard to watch I always want to sweep her hair from her face. I always want to change her clothes. I hate myself for this. I wish I could just relax around her. She’s a time bomb to me. She’ll go nuclear again, and we’ll find her on the floor.

I feel so judged. I know it’s just me. Im doing my literal and actual best. I know this. I cant do more than this. I have twisted myself up, and feel like every instinct I have is wrong. So wrong I am afraid to leave any permanent marks anywhere. Nothing that cant be undone somewhere else. I am not good enough these days for writing words in ink. They must all be free to be erased and begun again.

I watch with curiosity as the other mothers make their way in and out and seem to hold a confidence I just dont. They look like they all finished college. I bet they didn’t have their sick daughter when they were 21. Its just plain too young. You know I hear speak of their kids being “cured” and I think to myself- “Fools!” This is a not a common cold. This is a cancer that lies dormant and go into remission only to strike again, without permission. riding in cars

The Frailty

I’ll begin with a disclaimer, I’m a naive optimist with a guarded heart and an open mind. Im just now figuring out you didn’t mean it when you told me to

“Seek and Ye shall find”

I don’t know what to do. I’m going out of my mind.

Maybe it would be better if I could blame you,

I don’t think I would love you this way if I could tame you.

We’re both such hypocrites. We want wings, with strings.

Its late, and getting later still…

In this dark hour, the tears have all gone sour.

Science says you can tell what caused a tear by its composition. I didn’t need the definition the tears are clouding my vision.

I know what you’re doing, its been done before. Just right now, no kidding! I can’t take this crap anymore.

Not that you’re looking, not that you can see, but I tripped and fell back there.

The lay of our land lies in your perfect hand.

You are my architect…

And I swear… even incomplete that hallowed ground moved with my heart to your simple sound-

From our garden you showed me the rainbow iris that can only be felt in your kiss.

And how stars hung there in our sky

A perfect constellation mirror your mystic eye

Still, seeds we planted born of love need an even spaced eyes, and Freedom Fighter

Petals push up breaking concrete without a sound and bring with them subtle promise your sweet refrain.

Star crossed petals fight to keep the life created from just the twinkle, and a little sprinkle of honey-dew.

Queen Bee waits for you.

She calls out, crestfallen.

Her Brave Knight is busy, neglects her, his Bride of Passion.