MISSING
I close my eyes
and miss the fear
I felt when you didn't
come home at night
to your unmade bed.
I close my ears
and miss the sound
I heard when your calloused palm tapped
my head
my head
my head.
I close my eyes
and miss the sensation
I felt when you made
the stick's end
a companion
to my raw hide.
I close the door
to my mind
and miss the smile
I saw on your dear, dear face
as you gently put
my mother's iron
on my arm.
I open my eyes
and wish you wouldn't take
these familiar things from me and give them
to another who wouldn't appreciate them as much
as I do
and I open my mind
and wish that you'll go to hell!
and take me
because I don't want to be alone.