your brown skin touches mine
and my cheeks burn
your lips press against my cheek
and my heart skips a beat or two
you tell me you love me
and the butterflies fill my gut with glitter
and rainbows
and sunshine
and soon I don't even remember what pain feels like anymore

you hold me for a spell
and I become engulfed in you completely

not wanting to be anywhere else
in the world

I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.

I am broken inside,
beyond repair,
way past warranty.
I buy and I buy
to mend the damage,
but nothing fits.

I've been collecting shades of life and it seems all I really have is a gradient scale of tired eyes and restless hands. This is the reality of it all and to be honest I just wanted my name to roll like thunder in your dreams. I lost my will to hold my own against the tide and that's when it all began. Typical girl, I always looked at you like you put stars in the sky but, it's broad daylight and baby, you've never touched a star. And you sicken me with your bedroom philosophy as if you were ever a scholar on church steps. And I'm one shade too tired to pretend this doesn't ruin me. So pack up and leave me. And I'll say hello to this clusterfuck of things thy never made me feel so good.
Words.
Cuz it's not about being sad all the time. It's about knowing emotional exhaustion like the well versed, back of your hand. Resistance is drowning every time you close your eyes and still knowing deep down, The Show Must Go On. Now I'm just lying here inhaling oceans and you still think it's a good idea to talk about the sunset from her window. And the only thing that shouts out at me from all of this is how everything seems so ****** and so small to me frequently. So I throw up my good intentions and all the reasons I thought this could be a vigil to a time I felt wanted and I laugh cuz Cupid just won't stop shooting me with these dull arrows. I mean, have I not been here before? This silence I hear when I'm alone; Am I really surprised by the way it holds me? And have I not bought real estate with the familiarity of it all? Don't dwell on it, though. If anything just remember, this is not bitter failure, this is the recovery.
This is learning and such is life.

Never realized my friends were trying to save me,
I just didn't feel worth saving.