I must remember to recognize when he is not speaking mine to me
He’s speaking his to me
He checks over the engine and vacuums the interior
I would prefer a back rub or a kiss
I am grateful, however, for the love he gives
Cause it’s mine and intended for me
from a thinker, not a feeler
to an extrovert from an introvert
which is why its hard for him to do
They tell on me.
They show my heart.
I lie. I lie with my mouth and curve the corners of it in an upwards direction like they like to see.
I use the words they want to hear for reassurance.
But those tears, they tell on me every time.
Got me crying over the maybe’s…I’ve got a talent for thinking up some fucked up shit
So scared I don’t even want to speak it into existence
Comparing my life to film
Head in the clouds
That’s the same
I watch my husbands heartache as he is forced to confront the reality that his daughter is growing into a woman
The phase of life I never had
The thing I robbed my mother of when I confessed my pregnancy a month after my quinceñera
A beautiful and sad process
A necessary and unavoidable part of progress
Filled with love and heavy with potential
A new start
A parenting chapter neither of us know much about
Happy Fathers Day my love
avoiding using hiding organizing cleaning folding imagining re-arranging preparing writing thinking feeling listening longing hoping resting disconnecting coping escaping drinking burning tapping dancing wiping stretching
I take their breath away
They bare all their teeth for me
Bless me with heartfelt thoughts of kindness
Share romance through profound poetry
Go the extra mile
Let me have it for free
Ask for my prayers
Longingly look into my eyes
Steal a touch
Provide a “hook up”
those birthdays as a new mom
When nothing feels like it’s about you
They go away
The kids grow up
Make you cool stuff
You can lay in the hammock you built
Drink your wine
And watch the clouds go by
I want to cry
I want to hurl
I want to sleep
I want to run
I want to quit
I want to hide
All at once
And none at all
Disappear without a trace
To help myself and no one else
Pointy and sharp?
Don’t live without it.
It’s your gift
It’s that thing
That makes you – you.
So, show it.
Make it apply
I’m too stressed
Too tied up in knots with obsessive thoughts
I’m not good enough
The whole thing will suffer
It will all be my fault
Not even a has been.
Just a never was
A desperate attempt to keep my dreams alive
Is that selfish and unrealistic?
Where do I live…isn’t this reality? Someone’s already given me the task.
The job has been entrusted to me
Too late to turn back now
The show must go on