you keep following me.

i see the corn fields
and green beat-up cars
and i think of you.

i wonder what your life's like.
did it change since we talked last?

last meaning years ago.

i'm pretty sure i last saw you
at the bottom of marble staircases
and city smells.

and i still have the haunting memory

of your attendance at church
to watch me get baptized.

your cane held you
and your gray hair fell softly
like your words on my young heart.

your wrinkles were more than i remembered
and your mouth didn't speak with confidence
that's not the woman i remembered.

but did i ever know you?
or only your passion?

why do i have your same brown eyes
and heart shaped face
and full brown hair?

why do i think of you at all?

i'm younger than you,
i don't want to help you.

the little kid that i squashed down years ago
to take over for you cries out.

maybe that's why i get so angry
that i need to take over now for another.

why do you follow me
and bring guilt with you?

i can't take the extra weight.

i'm growing fatter from worry
and vanity and pain…

you keep following me
and i don't know how much more i can take.