They told me.
Told me that your eye practically fell out.
I held my tears in,
Pretended like I was used to it by now,
But it will never.
Your smooth body no longer matches your face.
Your eyes beaten in, over and over.
The wide-eyed look that you gave to me has disappeared.
In place, a roadmap of aging streets
That come together at a parking space
Above your lip,
That has bloody potholes and speed bumps.
You look overused,
Like over washed clothes
That are no longer soft.
Dumbass Dave put you in on regular,
When you have a delicate heart.
I try to collect the lint from the dryer,
To sew you back together,
You’re too broken,
Because bleach and brain don’t mix.
And I’m sorry.
It’s not your fault,
In this world where nothing comes easy and
Christmas is coming up.
You asked for sweaters.
In my dreams you’d open a package of courage,
And a stocking full of motivation,
You’d thank me.
But, you’ll get sweaters,
And like always,
You’ll use them to cover your bruises,
You’ll pretend they’re not there,
But I’ll still know the truth.
You’ll paste on that smile,
With dollar tree glue sticks;
All you can afford is crappy quality.
It doesn’t work well.
I can see your frown edging his way through,
And there’s nothing I can do.
Because you’re the mom,
And I’m the child.
I wish we could exchange positions.
Then I could hug your undernourished figure,
Put band aids on your cuts,
Apply makeup to your scares,
And, for once,
You’d feel beautiful,
Like you’ve always been inside.
The clock is ticking.
Time is catching up.
Once you reach the finish line,
You can’t run again.
You can’t give up,
Just because life gives in.
Do it for yourself.
Do it for me.
Don’t let one monster scare you to death.
Because, I need a mom.
I need you more than you need yourself.
Throw him back in your closet,
Push him back under your bed,
Let’s toss the scary stories,
And read fairy tales instead.