a thread
weaving in and out of lives
pulling back
into childhood
where it waits
to be addressed.
You run forward
as fast as you can
trying desperately
to rip away
from that poor
pathetic
child
who only wanted
what he deserved.
So now you sit
in resentment
and resist
the urge to cry
as that poor
pathetic
child
once again
is ignored.
Cry darling
cry
because I am here
and I am listening
to everything
you cannot say.
Colloquially Speaking 