Poem By Lacie Simonds
It's as though he doesn't see the piles of clothes, the holes in the walls, or even the tears in my eyes.
Sometimes it seems like he's numb...he's just part of the room.
I worry about him (about us) , and wonder if I'm doing a good job...a job I'm not supposed to have to do.
I wonder if he realizes by now that I've taken her place.
I'm standing (shaking) . Trying not to burn the food. Trying not to season it with my fears, as I hold them close to my eyes.
Why is everything so wrong?
I've tried so many times to put away the clothes, cover up the holes, and even wipe away my tears.
(Why do I bother any more?)
It isn't fair.
No one helps me...they expect me to do this on my own.
I'm still so young...where's my childhood gone?
She's still not here. I've called so many times, I'm sure she wouldn't answer even if I wanted to try again.
Every time we talked, I only asked her one question:
'When's my mom coming home? '