Why is it you see me in pigtails holding my blankie?

Why is it you see him as someone to hold me back?

Have you ever walked in my shoes?

Have you ever gotten inside?

Ever seen my love for him?

This isn't high school, I am not 16.

I am sick of explaining my love, my happiness.

I guess you never can know what I feel.

You never ask.

Sitting in silence shaking your head at me

like one great disappointment.

You ask why I am leaving.

You baby is growing up.

And can’t sit still here.

It’s like I am in a padded cell.

Calling me the salty air

The hands of my love

The kiss of life

The end of judgment

My new beginning

11/27/2001

Posted on 11/27/2001
Copyright © 2025 Deanna M Gritsonis