ConversationFor my wonderful parents
All this is not to say I'm unhappy
I just mean to say;
"Why can't I stop thinking of
how things could have been?"
"Maybe if she'd stayed a few more weeks?
If he'd been more flexible?"
no, no, stop that thought
and tears build up in my eyes
(don't get me wrong)
"We're a blended family"
Masking my hurt, cracked open heart
"It works for us."
Maybe for them, not for me
The corners of my mouth pull down
As my breath catches
in my sore throught
I pull them back up.
And open my eyes a little wider.
The scab has grown over pretty well now
After 15 years of every-other-week
Head held up high, back straight
biting back a sob.Don't pick that scab
It's such an impulsive act
You'll regret it.
"I want us all to be together again."
I could invent a night by the fire
Singing old folk songs together
I could dream of waking to
the gentle hum of their voices,
Mixing and blending in harmony.
Or I could wipe these tears,
now streaming freely
out of my red eyes,
And pretend we never had this conversation.