He fell into his 20 somethings
with less grace than a stage dive
and about as much planning

I drove 100 miles per hour
down the expressway
just to make it to his bed,
before he got inside his own head
several times a week for
seven years straight

But something about this
time looked unsalvagable
as he came flailing,
wrecklessly
over head

I guess I found the courage
to step away
and let gravity
pull his weight

Well,
I sat on his front porch
this morning with a coffee between
my hands and my legs crossed,
hoping desperately
he wouldn't ask me
if he was going to be okay
cause I know that in some ways
he needs me to believe in him
but I was always bad at pretending
when my mom drug me to church
at age six
and not a whole lot
has changed since then