Am I worthless for not wanting
to visit you this week?
I've come to the point in this
grieving process where there are no more
little girls dancing at your door.
They've knocked and no one's home.

Am I horrible for thinking I'm talking
to swiss cheese when I call
you on the phone?
Our conversations can't even be
called that anymore.
You know nothing of my insides
you are constantly "hanging in there."
What else is there to talk about
but constipation and a neglected garden?

Am I ruthless in how much I still
love you? Am I doing us both
a disservice?
Tell me how to proceed. I'm taking notes.

09/24/2006

Posted on 09/25/2006
Copyright © 2024 Lisa Marie Brodsky