Truth

Never

I can't explain how painful it is

to wait for something that never comes.

I wait to be picked up once again;

To be slung around in the air, laughing.

I wait for my dead father to let me dance on his feet.

The pain is not one that stabs nor bites,

But burns so persistently, almost tenderly,

and leaves behind an ache that echoes inside.

I am filled with stupid hope,

And sometimes I think it must be courageous,

In its little, beautifully horrid way,

To cling to such a thing.

Something that will never last and probably never was.

It's a burden that is heavy from the inside out.

It rings and pounds and rushes through my head,

Along with the words that I know and refuse to comprehend:

Never, never, never.