I couldn’t love them if I tried
And I have tried
But they are the child I threw away and didn’t look back
They are the child I abandoned and won’t let anyone adopt
Sometimes I think about them
I prod the heap of rags wherein they lie with my foot
I find I still can’t look them in the eye
I Know what’s there
The ugliness I cannot face
I feel it in their begging hands
Calling me a coward for not looking
I loathe them
Yet everyday they call out to me
My unfinished writings
