A Promise Around My Toes

They say all the love you give comes around. But I am not sure. So, until next year, I’ll walk around in my father’s shoes for a while — begging for affection (but only partly). Are you mad at me, I ask; you smile — I throw up into our kitchen sink in response. If this life is my past one, I carry you around my toes like a promise. But I think this life is too little to be too much. And you ask me who stayed with me, and I say, not even God — my one: gone lost. And the other day, when I told you to give me the bigger piece of your heart; you cried in response. Therefore, I put your plate in the dishwasher as I licked it clean. They say all the love you give comes around even if for once — but in my case, I think it just circles around my feet for a while. I come home to you, and I hope you come home to me — but somehow you manage to lose the keys every day. And as you carry up so much space in my life, I really think now it’s time I throw you out of my window.