you comforted her late at night
a new friend
bracing her from the wrongdoings of another man
you spoke the words to me,
"if someone ever hurt you like they hurt her, i dont know what id do"
but it didnt matter when it happened to me months later
maybe it was because I had cried so many times in front of you before.
how many times am i allowed to cry
before the words i say are heard as crying "wolf"
have i used them all up?

I'm sprinkling seeds upon dry soil.

We confidently dove into the blue river-
The two of us, swimmers at heart.
It didn’t matter that sometimes we shivered,
We never wanted to be apart.

Now you say there’s too much of a current.
But... you told me before, that you were a swimmer.
What you said to me that those other girls weren’t,
You said that I was. I was your winner.

So you ask to let go; you say you’re exhausted
And you want the current to take you away.
But I am afraid- what has this costed?
Will going with the river cause us to decay?

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve done him right.
As a mother watching him grow,
Not letting him out of my sight,
Oh I worry so.

Authority isn’t my strong suit,
I have never been in charge,
But better than being mute,
Like his father, at large.

When it comes to being a single mother,
There are times when I must let him go,
And although I want to hover,
Being a good parent is what I must show.

I love the boy who I pledged to raise,
From that very first moment, that very first day.

Don’t look at his arms now.
Stiff and swollen, small muscles
curled in like a mountain:
needing someone to open the gym
an hour to workout.
That arm held the weight,
made the ladies say
ripped and attractive.

Don’t think of his heart
behind thick abs flirting
with girls, his voice
drowning in grunts and moans,
his daily routine.

Think of the bodybuilder who slid
3 steriods down scaffolding esophaguses,
every meal,
who stood up to Death the Dealer
for more hits to take on.

Keep him the image of the unhealthy,
straight-backed on the gym floor
in sickness, sighing
from his choice.
Keep his image holding
needles, syringes, and pills,
bringing your heartbeat down
not on the muscle,
your mind’s logic sweeping off fantasies.

I fell in love with him so easily. I was starstruck from the moment we first started hanging out, and I have been in awe of him ever since. With every passing month I knew that my feelings for him wouldn’t go away. He immediately got all of my love. My heart was his. I held him on a high pedestal so I was scared that one day he would throw it away and realize that my love wasn’t good enough. But nevertheless, I didn’t take my heart back. I wanted it to be his.

I took the risk of loving him, and it is still really scary. Loving someone gives them the power to hurt you. Sometimes I feel like I’m too vulnerable giving so much of myself to another person. But reflecting on all of this past time spent with him… I don’t want to take my heart back. All of the car rides where he touched my leg, all of the times he nudged me to silently ask if I was okay, the times when he would hug me, pick me up, and twirl me around... I would take any risk to have those moments. If I know that there is a chance to have these moments of happiness and love with him, I’m going to go for it. He is worth that risk.