

Not today, my dear, Tomorrow, my dear, Next time, my dear— Another tale of a dad. This dad, a busy dad, Always too busy for
A night spent on my mother’s grave, This place, a haven of late. I feel the soil’s texture through my torn shirt, My dry blood
Once upon a time, In a young girl’s heart, Cheer and warmth abounded. Such lightness, such openness; A shield from every outside threat. In due
Look at me, do I look whole? Mom thinks I’m broken, But I’m not just broken, I’m also battered, And I can’t fix myself. Physically
There are days that I dare to dream otherwise, Of what a home would be for me and mine, Of how I would fill it
Before my whole being gives up the fight Before my arms grow weary of holding you Before my ears find your voice unknown to me
A girl. A child. A daughter. A human, perhaps, But all you saw was a toughest man in there, When all I wanted to be
Hopeful that tomorrow would be better Holding on to the belief That broken can be mended Confident that we would mature We held on longer
I love you, but your response to my confession is scary. I love you, but what happens if it’s just a feeling, An infatuation mistaken
Being a giver, a fixer I struggled when they hurt, craved their okayness, And went out of my way to make them okay Tried to