She's only a child
She's unsure
She's still trying to figure out who she is
She's incompetent
And she's alone
It eats away at her,
the loneliness
Work is all her mother has
But work is what they need
She tries to fill in the empty head chair at their dining room table
But her feet can't even touch the ground yet
They tread water, pumping in the air, and the few inches that she still needs to grow seem insurmountable
She's touching the floor, trying to keep her brothers and sisters above water but drowning in the process
Her legs pump and pump
And they pump slower and slower
Until finally she allows herself to go under
Her siblings feet in her hands
Still in the land of toy boats and baby teeth
But she's sinking to the bottom like a rock
Drowning in her responsibilities
In her expectations for herself
As her baby brothers and sisters float their boats she sees the bottom of their toys
But these objects are foreign to her now
A part of her childhood cut short
And still she sits at the head of the table
And waits until her feet can finally grow the few inches that she needs
YOU ARE READING
Severed Silence
PoetryPoetry~ the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts. ie. Talking about a special thing in a special way And these things are special My goal is to write at least one poe...
