Permission Slip

I will not do, sit, stand, or speak

Without her permission.

Without her go ahead.

Because you cannot live by your own, solitary, little virtue

When someone is the reason that you simply

Are.

And when you're the reason for their C-section scar.

But she is my child

Because once, 

I looked over at her

And was filled with overwhelming relief that she was asleep.

She looked peaceful in her slumber,

As peaceful as a girl,

And I could only hope that was true,

That she had found some sort of tranquility in her rest.

With too much to ponder she would be plagued in the morning.

Without question.

I could only hope that she reached some reason as she slept,

Her neurons making the necessary connections needed for her to be okay.

She had miles to go within her sleep

To reduce the light years that awaited her when she woke.

Her youth is trapped in my heart.

I want it for her the way she wants it for me.

Because of that, she is my mentor.

She is the only one that has taught me the value of my youth

by showing me the way that she has lost hers.

So, to preserve mine,

I will not do, sit, stand, or speak

Without her permission.

Without her go ahead.