Red Storm

I used to whisper vows to her
A child asleep in my arms,
I will love you forever.
I once thanked her, even,
crediting her for teaching me love.

A body grows
Now she likes philosophy
11 years old, saying blatantly,
why is it that all men want something?

Drunken chaotic violent love is what she knows
I wish I wish I wish
I could be there
Maybe I stay a little farther at times
Because I know how much it hurts to see her
And feel like I’ve let her fall.

I can’t be a mother.
But what does a child do when she’s alone with a storm?
“I was worried, so I started counting.”
“Counting what?”
“How many beers.”
“How many does she usually drink?”
“If it’s just me and her… only 4-6. But when Rosie comes over more like 10 or 12.”

I pray that she comes out of her childhood stronger.
My heart aches for her struggle.
So matter of fact. So articulate. Beautiful and tall.
Asleep beside me like so long ago.
Memories flood my heart.
I want a whole life with her.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s