I cry, I cry and let myself cry
because those tears are words
I didn’t get to say.

Father,
perhaps my patience like the ocean
has tried to simmer, to stir clear any poisonous
offers but cannot repel all thrown at it
hence my eyes, darker than dirt
are compelled to shed more tears
and my heart’s soothing song
cannot reach my ears.
I spend more nights looking up
asking for more like
how I’ll not get angry at my son
asking questions I cannot answer
raffle his hair gently instead
perhaps like that, like knowing the sun
cannot become a home,
when I beg insistently while I can still hold on
blink an eye at me so I can make a wish.
I haven’t slept in days…