You’re my girl,
You’ve always been -
Brown-eyed sweetheart
Raven-haired beauty.
I labored so long to bring you -
I did,
Not your dad,
Not the woman posing as your mother,
(Your dad’s fourth wife).
I did.
I got up and fed you.
I patted your diapered bottom to sleep.
I rocked you.
I held your hand during the stitches,
Kept your fever down during the chicken pox.
It’s me.
Not him,
Not her.

I can’t be replaced,
And we both know,
We both grieve for what we should have
But don’t because the lies were too big -
Continuous stream of venom
Fading to reveal true colors
Of filth and grime.
We take note of the stench
And bring it into the courtroom
And can only hope the judge smells it too.

Where are the watchmen?
Who is tending the fires?
Who are the centurions when
Children’s hearts are broken to pieces
And non-custodial parents have no power?

You are sixteen now,
And in our country, you could choose an abortion
Without my knowledge if you needed one,
But they will not allow you to choose where you will live
Even when where you currently live is killing your soul.
I am burning with this passion to keep you with me
To stand against this man who has possessed me
And threatens you
Well beyond the stretch of that shameful dismisal
But burnt doesn’t help you,
Or me.

My girl,
My little dove,
Hang on until they let you choose.
Hang on.

09/30/2004

Author's Note: I'm so angry I could spit.

Posted on 09/30/2004
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie