Twenty Something

My twenty- something:

If your hair runs rampant

Through couch cushions

Ring-ed

White knuckled

hands

Like mine,

Suffocates the sleeping imposter

I am sure is lying beside

You

Leave it

Let it run

Let yourself run

And I will not chase you

I will

However

Watch you come back

To the porch in my mind

I have contentedly witnessed

So many dusks crash

Upon

To my baby

My twenty-something

I hope you will nurse back to life

The soul that has writhed in pain

Because of your abandonment 

I hope the scars run deep

Shield you

From future wounds

Your hands may be calloused

Your eyes red and pulsing

But breathe

Walk, dry, ask, smile, laugh

And realize.

 I have been you.