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SHOES

by red_viper

I wish that his shoes 

Were still in the walkway 

 

They used to trip me 

And I’d get frustrated

 

I wish the laundry 

Were still left piled up high 

 

That used to test me 

And I’d nag him to clean 

 

I wish he’d stay out

Too long past his curfew 

 

That used to stress me

I’d worry where he was 

 

Now I know where he is 

And I wish his shoes 

Were still in the walkway 

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red_viper

I’m a lifelong martial artist. I’ve written since I was young for myself as a form of self examination and therapy. Growing up closeted during the AIDS crisis and in small town Kentucky, I didn’t feel I had many options for outward expression. Life is different today, and I express what I feel here.

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Comments (1)

red_viper
<p>I wrote this about a year after we lost our boy Tyler who died by suicide at only 18 years old.&nbsp; My life and my world was turned upside down, and it mmade me think about the petty things that upset us every day, and I learned to see the good things first.&nbsp;&nbsp;</p>

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