single mothers write poems too

sitting here
in the space
where no one
needs me no one
pulls at me no
one is asking
me for anything

sitting here
with quiet
on an early
evening i flirt
with the possibility
of retiring early
down blanket pulled
to my ears
my head buried
in a therapeutic pillow
designed to keep
my spine aligned

worry unfurls from
the creases around
my eyes a weary
exhalation and my shoulders
slump how are you
is whispered and i come
unraveled how is this possible

to be wrapped so tightly
for so long under such
ridiculous circumstance that
when you are offered a
salutation as regular as rain
it causes you to take deep
inhalations and count because
there is no way you can answer
fine without hysteria bursting
from your lips

i am happy
to be sitting here
in a space where
no one needs me no
one pulls at me no
one is asking me
for anything

i am happy
to have this
moment of quiet
nothingness

thank.
you.
god.

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