There’s a child that lives just under my skin
Who refuses to come out until I’ve settled some things
Let go of others, learn to breathe.
He only comes out when threatened or pleased
And is quick to decide whom he won’t play with.
His temper is short–the length of a smile exchanged
Between two strangers who briefly meet.
Everything’s a reminder of the playtime he’ll one day enjoy
When he learns to be good.
There’s a child living between my desires and my need,
Thirsting for acceptance and comfort
–my embrace he awaits.
Cubiyanqui 