I know what you mean, though you don’t quite say it.
You thought, by now, that you’d be living with
the more ordinary metaphors, but instead,
you’re still playing mother bird,
bringing food back to the nest
to deposit down my unwilling throat.
You thought (or rather hoped?) you’d be back
upon the wide expanse of sky,
wind under your wings,
your second chance to fly.
Maybe, you thought of a change in career:
forest ranger, chair designer, swimming teacher.
Maybe, you thought of more time just for you:
undisturbed hours in the garden; gin festivals;
relaxed weekends away with your friends.
Instead, you’ve got a shadow child, a limpet child,
a parasitic child – a whole quarter of a century child
who might not eat if you don’t call them at lunchtime,
who might regress to toddler anger if you don’t
buy the right bagels in the right brand or
the right yoghurt in exactly the right flavour.
Instead, you’re still playing parttime zookeeper –
your weekends spent providing enrichment for one
who would otherwise just repeat the same motions
in their self-made enclosure.
Instead, you’ve got a baby that’s too heavy to carry,
a baby bird that should by now know how to fly.
See, I know what you mean when you don’t quite say it,
when you wonder how it all happened.
How, when you poured every cup half full
and always danced on the bright side
did you still get cursed with a child
who sees only empty cups and storm clouds?
How, when you were always there, when you soothed,
when you gave and you loved,
did you still get this untrusting, silent, hurting thing?
I know what you mean when you say that you worry –
that the child hurts you and elbows you like they did in the womb.
How you’d do anything to make it better, how you ask
and you ask – how can I help? What can I do?
Reshape the world, I could say, make it so that there’s space
for all my jagged, misaligned edges.
Stop time or go back and unpick me from existence.
But you can’t do that and I do not expect you to.
Just know – small consolation though it is –
just know that I love you, though I can’t form the words out loud –
know that I love you, I love you, I love you, that I’m sorry
and I appreciate everything that you do.