benched

dock

sometimes
at the end
you have to
jump

and sometimes
sometimes
there’s a bench

i’ve been sitting on the bench for a while now
missing words
kids have a way of taking them
stuffing them under the couch cushions
burying them under piles of laundry
hiding them behind constant interruptions

he sent me on a walk last night
told me to take care of myself
and by the time i got back to where i’d started
i felt a little piece of myself return

now to not lose it

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Posted in bits and pieces, life, on being mother...

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