"Healing hurts!",
blurted aloud
by a girl
not allowed
to see her baby girl
Spoken to a man
she couldn't stand
She couldn't stand
to be
misunderstood
But she couldn't stand
She couldn't stand,
but eventually she would
just a minute or two…
too late
to save
her baby girl
Her world
had fallen down the stairs…
at sixteen months
The months and months
and weeks ran by,
thinking of her daughter.
Eye to eye
with a man
she'd stand
along with the presence
of convalescence in her life
[Anything for her baby
to return]
She couldn't stand
when her baby…
needed her most
She couldn't stand
how she drank…
all the time
She couldn't stand
how the judge
took her away
On the bottom of the stairs
was her last crime,
and her last time
to see her baby
But she'd come a long way since
[she'd come a long way
along the way]
"Healing hurts!", the girl
would say-
in a way they
knew it hurt
a little more than pain-
to the man
she couldn't stand
"Will I…
ever see my daughter again?"
Ignoring her question
like he'd always been,
maybe he truly didn't know?
Maybe she died
upon those stairs?
Maybe she'd see her again…
tomorrow?
Maybe he was thinking
how he didn't care?
Perhaps he thought she
should've got
that abortion
her mom
begged her to?
(Whether she wanted to or not)
Perhaps the custody
our mother sought
wasn't for an eighteen year old
to do?
All she knew
was
she couldn't stand…
so many things, but nothing more
than the fact
she couldn't stand
when her baby girl
last crawled across the floor