Thursday, February 5, 2015

8:45 pm

The device from work,
or the day's grocery
is usually what slows me down.

But most often than not I feel its a girl.

A girl.
It's my little girl who has only learnt to walk and must take one step at a time.
And I slow down for her.

I keep my hands steady. I,
I must hold on to her.
I must open the door and switch on the lights first.

She isn't afraid of the dark.
I am.

But I must never be afraid with her around.

She has this habit of sitting on the floor

and I must keep the floor clean.
She's not allergic to dust.

 I am.

My little girl can only twaddle,
and that's the only sound
in this cruelly empty house.

I wish I could talk back to her but