if I were you
and you were me
together maybe we could be
the people that we dreamt to be
I’d feel your feet inside my shoes
you’d feel my pain inside your head
we’d see the world
through our eyes
we’d feel the wind
on our skin

if I were you
and you were me
we’d understand each other’s world
for free

We often get lost in our bubbles
Caught up in our very own troubles
But it’s equally rotten
For those we’ve forgotten
Remember that everyone struggles

Insecurities cloud my mind,
A mother's heart, so intertwined.
Changes sweep, both body and soul,
Yet love for my child, makes me whole.

Though pain may pierce, my spirit's strong,
A mother's love, forever long.
Through tears and fears, I'll persevere,
A beacon of hope, dispelling fear.

So understand, my weary heart,
A mother's love, a work of art.
With every step, I strive to mend,
A mother's love, till the very end.

To the boy I loaned a pencil,
You never had to give it back.

I know this one was fancy,
New eraser, full of lead.
But I had another one just like it
Which you could have had instead.

Though I always used the same one,
I carried two of every kind.
To make sure you had options
Of lead in every size.

You always chose the worst ones,
Even after I'd protest.
You said that you'd just lose it.
But I knew I'd have no regrets.

It was your right to lose them.
Pencils of your very own.
I had plenty more there in my bag,
And many more at home.

But you never took the nice ones.
So I collected from the floor
Any pencil so mistreated
That you would call it yours.

And every day I offered
Without needing to be asked.
Because the importance of a pencil
Was not just science class.

aroused from my slumber
through nightmares of your tongue
the potential it holds
sprout in my fruitful mind
the scariest ones
worsen in truth with time
espoused to another healing trajectory
peace and serenity
understanding my powers of empathy
treat you with delicacy
persist like evergreen
trout swimming in the confines of my oceanic surmise

nearly five years old
my nephew plays
with a stethoscope
a fully functioning
auscultatory device
not just some toy
of unavailing plastic
and purposeless rubber
lost to his imagination
he holds the chest piece
against my sternum
the diaphragm cold
even through my shirt
making me pull away
momentarily
out of instinct or habit
even though
it is not needed
he sits listening
concentration tight
across his brow
with very real concern
as he informs me
that he can't hear anything
that i must just have
no heart at all