Being a divorced, single parent is just the weirdest thing.
There are a lot of weird things in life. Some things only have felt weird to me for a season–like becoming a parent. 754 more words
Clocks haven't ticked since the digital age kicked in seconds no longer announce their passing but often over the past fifteen months I have heard my body ticking those moments away those long, long moments sixty seconds makes a minute while sixty minutes makes an eternity many eternities have since retreated leaving just thirteen thousand minutes increasing in speed until you return home fifteen months ago you entered those gates a sickly child, a crippled soul hunched and shuffling, with hooded eyes downcast, pinned pupils hidden clothed in filthy ribboned rags veins flat beneath thin tracks wrecked body, wrenched soul somewhere, deep within a child was struggling to rise and somehow, in those grey corridors, behind the barbed metal, the locks and the bars you found him, and he rose again growing into a fine man my beautiful son only ten days to go and I will stretch my arms towards you as you walk through those prison gates the clock in my heart has been ticking while I wrote these badly formed lines and it's ticked its way down to nine o o o n n n l l l y y y n n n i i i n n n e e e d d a a a y s s t o g o