My scoreboard is a whiteboard, decorated using only the prettiest of drywipe pens.
Markings never remain long.
Erased with ease.
Yours is a piece of tracing paper.
Each time you use your thick, black, permanent marker you create a change that will never erase and almost always bleeds through to whatever it was resting upon.
So that it will forever be visible.
Sent using BlackBerry® from Orange
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Changes
You used to want to be with me
Used to desire a family…
I wonder if the novelty wore off because of me or simply because it is in your nature.
Backwards stepping.
Can’t put my finger on the thing but I guess it was there, triggered the change.
Reality check.
I am craving attention…
Missing a certain kind of interaction.
The kind that felt natural and mutual and settled.
It’s been a while since I have had that.
Something in the pit of my stomach claws at the walls attempting to push itself to the rim.
And I stand trying to keep balance so as not to fall too far in.
This feeling of discontent.
Disconnect.
Sad eyes that see everything but tell silent stories.
Used to desire a family…
I wonder if the novelty wore off because of me or simply because it is in your nature.
Backwards stepping.
Can’t put my finger on the thing but I guess it was there, triggered the change.
Reality check.
I am craving attention…
Missing a certain kind of interaction.
The kind that felt natural and mutual and settled.
It’s been a while since I have had that.
Something in the pit of my stomach claws at the walls attempting to push itself to the rim.
And I stand trying to keep balance so as not to fall too far in.
This feeling of discontent.
Disconnect.
Sad eyes that see everything but tell silent stories.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Eye Spy
I see the father in you.
While it’s a shame that I can’t say that I see your father, I see one none the less.
It is quite obvious that his lack of presence hasn’t harmed what you will eventually be.
Don’t second guess it.
When the time comes you will be just fine.
Don’t second guess it.
I see the things you do in secrecy.
Experimenting quietly, away from prying eyes.
Allowing the curiosity loaded questions to become theory and then a practicality.
I remember the first time I saw you around a little one.
Embarrassed at funny faces and goo goo gaa gaa sounds.
Uncertain of whether you would know what to do.
How to hold them, whether you would be able to calm and soothe them.
Funny, as it seems that they soothed you.
Ironed out the creases of fear.
Would they be afraid of you, cry if you held them.
Could they love and accept you?
Awkwardness still present but not as fierce as it used to be.
So, don’t second guess it.
I see the father in you and when the time comes you will be just fine.
While it’s a shame that I can’t say that I see your father, I see one none the less.
It is quite obvious that his lack of presence hasn’t harmed what you will eventually be.
Don’t second guess it.
When the time comes you will be just fine.
Don’t second guess it.
I see the things you do in secrecy.
Experimenting quietly, away from prying eyes.
Allowing the curiosity loaded questions to become theory and then a practicality.
I remember the first time I saw you around a little one.
Embarrassed at funny faces and goo goo gaa gaa sounds.
Uncertain of whether you would know what to do.
How to hold them, whether you would be able to calm and soothe them.
Funny, as it seems that they soothed you.
Ironed out the creases of fear.
Would they be afraid of you, cry if you held them.
Could they love and accept you?
Awkwardness still present but not as fierce as it used to be.
So, don’t second guess it.
I see the father in you and when the time comes you will be just fine.
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