i am too proud to admit it
as i scoff and twist my lips sarcastically
so i just walk way,
half-muttering some comment
designed specifically to bite into you
too deeply to ignore, but too
quietly to answer.
but let's be honest, here,
since you'll never read this anyway.
(even though i offered you the chance,
the most vulnerable piece of me,
there for the taking. for the
seeing and understanding. me,
trying to fix things. and you didn't care.)
i miss you. miss you.
i am not a god-child; i am
empty. whatever it is
that makes you believe,
that gives you faith, i don't have it.
and i don't want it.
but just because i'm not searching
for a heavenly father to forgive my sins -
that doesn't mean i don't want a mother.
i'm seventeen. seventeen and
exhausted. so many things to say to you.
but i think it's too late. you have
church and i have the future.
and i'm not sure we can fix this.
but there are days
when i feel five again
(or maybe this is how
all seventeen-year-old girls feel)
and on those days
i cry, i cry cry cry
and i just
but you're never there