Mommy’s stuck

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.

 

Mommy’s stuck.

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…

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