June 2012
17 posts
sadness, even though.
i wish your brain wasn’t going soft
like an old fruit,
fermenting.
and i wish i wasn’t alone,
and had a child,
for you to lift up
and smile at.
and it could giggle, and call you Papa Stets.
or GrandStets.
i wish that all my hard work,
could buy your happiness
and preserve it.
and i wish that getting up out of your bed every day
in the basement of someone else’s...
