I wish I was in your shoes-
not wondering if he loves you
and not having to choose to
wait for him or leave.
Thank God you're not me.
You have his undying love,
especially in those moments
when he rests you on his
shoulders like his damn princess,
but I am far from royalty to him.
I'm jealous of how you get
to say that he stayed.
You take advantage of the fact
that those words have the privilege
of falling out of your mouth,
but oh, what I would give to have
them slip off my tongue.
Fathers are supposed to be
willing to die for their child,
but mine was dedicated to it.
He is dead, but is still breathing.
He died like a flame;
like a memory I threw in the
forgotten file in my brain.
He is gone and I am too,
but you are here and he is reading
you stories while you sit in his lap.
Oh, how I envy that.