Sharon

Sharon, 

Do you ever think of me

When you bite into something sweet? 

I remember, you know, how you loved 
your treats. 

I remember our tired forms

making our way down the street,

backpacks full and heavy.

I remember your laugh, infrequent

And light like a tinkle

Oh how we giggled, 
till our stomachs ached.

Between the dusty shelves of the library,

we held something too precious to break. 

I wonder if you miss me at all

When you walk down the same street

Is there a void where my arm used to be? 

But more frequently, I wonder if you hate me... 

If in my efforts to tuck you into my chest, 

I made you feel less. 

If in my attempt to keep you in my world, 

I reduced your worth. 

Maybe I lead the way so long I didn't realize you hadn't followed. 

Maybe I spoke too much in my effort to cheer you up. 

If I'd stayed silent just a moment 

I could have seen you, really seen you. 

Not as a needy soul. But a whole being. 

With an identity and personhood, 

unattached to my hip.