Rise.

Fall.

Fall hard on my knees.

Tears and screaming and pointless pleas.

Though the world collapses in on me, there’s somewhere else I need to be.

 

Diapers and tears and endless cries.

Fake a laugh. Don a disguise.

Tie a shoe, pretend to be wise.

Fake it all when they look in my eyes.

 

Tear-filled Kleenex in great mountains rise.

No sleep, no relief from dusk to sunrise.

No way out of this cycle that I can devise.

Diapers and clocks and blue or black skies.

 

Collapse in anguish, hoping to die.

Imagine his new lover. Bake a pie.

Search for tears but find I’m bone dry.

Kiss a skinned knee. Stop asking why.

 

Lift. Sweat. Buckle. Breathe. Crawl.

Stagger. Try. Fail again. Fall.

Parent, alone, these babies so small.

Collapse beneath the weight of it all.

 

Will yourself to standing. Confront your fear.

Laugh for once and find it’s sincere.

Stop visiting yesterday, just be right here.

Dance with them anyway in the moonlight clear.

 

Books and late nights. Yawn. Repeat.

Missing socks and lunch-pails and tiny feet.

Hugs and self-loathing and kisses sweet.

Victory, it seems, is holding hands with defeat.

 

Rise.

Rise from my knees.

I’ve got adventures with my kids to seize.

My world stopped collapsing in on me, because there was somewhere else I needed to be.

 

 

 

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