parenthetical (parenthetical) wrote in pillow_book, @ 2007-08-23 20:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | not a goddamn poem, pillow book |
(Sam found this typed into the laptop, as an entry for a certain date in his calendar software.)
Six.
You'd made lots of friends at school,
And didn't want to leave town again.
I packed up all your things for you
While you screamed like you were three.
Bought you chocolate behind Dad's back,
You dozed off against my shoulder.
Twelve.
You hated all the target practice,
Refused to do PT or spar with me.
Kicked your ass round the room three times
Till you fought back, and fought back good.
Helped you with your homework, after,
You got an A and smiled at me.
Eighteen.
Never seen you that angry before,
Guess it had been a long time coming.
You left, heard nothing but 'Stay gone',
Didn't answer when I called. Didn't blame you.
Wasn't sure I could fix things; took years,
But when I asked for help, you got in the car.
Twenty-four.
You ask me 'How long?' and 'How could you?'
But you've got no idea what it was like
To see you like that, to see - Sammy.
I know you're mad. But I had to, I did.
I can't fix it this time, but I'm not sorry,
Just - don't be mad at me. Please, Sammy.