C.I.P.


If your hair got in my food
I wouldn't mind.
I'd take that short, rust-coloured strand
out to the nearest cloning lab drive-thru
and order me up a batch of you, post haste.
I don't think oneof you would be enough
because I'm sure there'd be times when one of you
had to go to work,

or school,
or the bathroom
and would have to leave my arms.
And I think that if I got a chance to hold you once
I wouldn't let myself let you go
because sure, you'd probably come back after the first time wandering away,
but by maybe the 15th or 16th time I let you go
you wouldn't come back.

Because that's what always happens.
None of them want to come back to me after a little while.
And I don't know why
but it's so hard
and it hurts so much
to always have to hold back the tears
and wave at you from the road
through your back windshield as you go away.
And I have to smile while I do it too.
I'm not completely sure why I care
and think that your happiness is more important than mine
but it's not something I can help anymore.

I just say goodbye (the times I get a chance to)
and try to be strong
as I bite my lip and wave
and wait til you're all gone
so I can cry in peace.

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