the absence of mine

Photo by Laura Fuhrman on Unsplash

children have moms

to hug goodnight and i think

about the absence of mine.

girls whose dads

coach their softball teams

know they’re safe with them

when they’re at home,

but the snapshot memory

of what he did to me

won’t leave my

mind.

grandparents hold their kids’

bundles of joy and i

scrunch my nose

thinking about

how they

left —

in the blink of an eye;

i do not know what to do

with envy when the ones i’m jealous of

are not the source of my pain,

and i think

for the rest of my lifetime, i’ll exist

with a subtle bitterness about

my lack of adult guidance

and parental aid.

☼