The Woman

As a child, 

I would prefer to spend a lot of time alone.

My parents thought it was quiet odd 

And would often check on me.

Unknown to them,

I was never alone.


The woman in the corner would be there,

Watching.

It scared me at first,

But over time,

I began to accept her presence.

She would stroke my hair

While I was asleep.

She would wipe my tears 

While I cried about a worthless boy.

She would listen to my pleas 

While I cried and begged for death.


She was there

During my loneliest moments

In youth. 

And she’s here

During my proudest moments

In adulthood.

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