Word by word you build your story
and I listened intently,
so I now know that I need to
sing you a lullaby nightly and
say prayers of hope each morning.
And in case those don’t protect you
I will surround your heart
with barbed wire and
discarded fireworks.
You search for peace halfheartedly
as if you’re panning for gold
that doesn’t exist.
You try to unlock the hushed and
frail secrets I once told you
but, like your happiness,
you’ve lost your skeleton key.
I understand your decision to
search, for something or anything,
but it is my hope
that you don’t end up
following the wrong North Star,
but in case you arrive in
whatever place you were hoping to go,
I’ll give you a quarter
so you can call me
to let me know
that you got there safely.