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Friday, September 19, 2008

Abundance

"Sometimes I wish you were never born"
is the same as "I wish you were dead"
I roll this around in my head,
Words spoken calmly, like drops of water toppling into a bath without splashing
It was a cold, weary October night, and I will not let it go
It rattles and collects dust and lint and hatred
Years of scorching memories flash in my eyes

The son wasn't the prodigal, it was the father
The father is carelessly extravagant
With his home
With his heart
With his love

And my heart isn't open enough to give her back
My cloak
My ring
My fatted calf

I don't stand on a hill, looking for her to come back to me
Because on the day she told me she wished I was never born
I reckoned her dead
I just didn't realize it until today.