MY PARENTING IS STEEL

sharpening against stone,

shaping with friction and

chew-on-this piece of

gristle. Not pleasant.

For either of us. My intent,

of course, is to guide

and mould in dissonant

harmony. To rough sand

using my crushed dreams and

useless excuses from my

own youth. To expose the

cracks now so that we can

sculpt together until smooth

so you are ready to face

the wild winds dancing on

the not-so-distant horizon.

I secretly hope that you’ll

let me polish with wise words

but you cannot hear, will

not hear, because I don’t

bring joy; I don’t bring  

laughter; I don’t bring easy

free talk. Instead, we become

two very different sides

of the same coin – so close

yet destined to never meet.

Heads or tails?

At this point, I’ll take either

just as long as we share a

genuine smile one day.

The water of the world will

do my job from here on out

and while you choose your rivers

to race and conquer, I search

for one moment that makes

your eyes light-up when you

see my eyes

light-up

for you.

​

First appeared in Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing 3.2 | June 2017