Mommy, are you sad?
How do you know, child, how do you know.
I am trying to act normal
But this heartache will crush me if I don’t sit here for a second
Before I go on to fold the little’s pjs.
He brings daddy to help me off the bed,
piled high with a week’s worth of laundry.
They pull with exaggerated noises
and I rise from my pile and satisfy the boy
by walking down the hall with them.
See, mommy’s no longer stuck.
But to satisfy the man I say,
quiet voice, “lovely metaphor.”
And he says, Mommy’s stuck…
And I say, no, you pulled me out.
He and both know that no one can pull me out.
But damn if their love isn’t gonna get me through…