Someday mine might think of me
when times are good, not low.
I worry and wonder all the time,
for who or what, I'm no longer sure.
It feels as if I'm filled to the brim,
with all for others I wish for myself,
but I was never trained to self sustain,
or cause a ruckus while I wait.
Celebrating big and small, I bring flowers to the brunch.
I'll remain pretty, and patient,
generous and kind,
and wait for someone who has the capacity
for mine.

Unfathomable,
Committing to wed, before one is able to drive.
Reliant on each other,
complete disarray
if tragedy suddenly arrives.
And it will, you see,
your claim to fame being all you can ***** about.
Both parents have passed by 50,
before self care you'd choose to shout.
Though I can't say much,
I suppose as a single,
with admittedly much to lose.
I just find it sad
when two will settle
not knowing what's out there to choose.

I search for you in places that I know you’ll never be.
Assured the last thing you would want to find unprompted? Me.
Though I know that’s false, and love has ways of making far seem close,
And the beauty in the vastness makes me think of you the most.
Guaranteed your time is filled with goals both big and small.
I’m proud of you, although I’m sure that means the least of all.
Perception is a fickle thing, mine never sold to trust.
But the memories are palpable,
And on those? I’d bank or bust.

I’ve seen so many places,
Faces, held the far and wide.
Mass amounts of *******,
You’d never believe what I took in stride.
Though another lie, as you taught me to take things and show strong -
If only I’d determined what was right and could be wrong.
Yet here I sit, stationary at last, the hardest challenge to date.
Dissecting the most convoluted,
Acceptance no easy feat.

So I’ll allow myself the guilty pleasure
Of looking for your head,
In crowded rooms and maybe sometimes laying in my bed.

A **** in my ribs,
It burns in an electric feel
unlike love.
Who kicked me in the chest?
The consistent prodding is nothing but
the opposite of what you advocate for.
How are you so blind?
How blindsided could one really be?
Not very.
Yet the wind has been taken from my sails,
and the humidity creeps in
to choke me.

This mushy couch,
I’m clammy and warm -
Crying about the wrong dad being taken
When suddenly
The therapist turns,
A knock is heard,
Many - rather.
A ladder appears
And a dude with a belt
Far too big for his stature.
He climbs and cleans
And makes me laugh,
And my asthmatic therapist
Takes us on a walk instead.
Uphill! It is humid
We both pant and sweat
I haven’t ditched the juul
The way the rug was pulled
Back we go
To the mushy couch
With the clammy pillow

And you chose me
All of me
As I am
And I tried my best
To stay asleep
And soak it in
But the alarm always goes off
At an inopportune time