Poems

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They say the days are long but the years are short.
And I hope she doesn't know when I fall apart.
When I sit outside on the back step for a cry.
Wipe my face, let out a sigh, walk through the door to arms stretched up.
I've been touched a million times before noon, I'm overstimulated, I might boil over soon.
We make it to bedtime and I can sit ont he couch and wonder "am I fucking her up too much?".
I go to bed and wonder can I even do this again?
I toss and turn wondering "Am I good enough? Am I the mother she deserves? Am I soft enough?"Morning comes, I hear her cry.
I walk into her room and I hear that sound.
The sound of a gentle little laugh, from a girl excited to see what fun adventures lie ahead for the day.
And just like that,She has put me back together and I feel ok.