Balls

I still feel like a child.

Maybe the universe isn’t so cruel,
it will figure this out for me.

Do I really have to?

Understanding, knowing,

absorbing the feeling of

I can’t.

You will.

I do.

It’s the do or die
on a Tuesday evening

when you don’t have any money left,
so you donate plasma to get by until the next pay.

It’s the babysitting someone else’s crotch fruit
because you need reciprocation.

The entire time the child(ren) drive you insane
and you make chicken nuggets,
you pull out the coloring books,
braid the hair,
swallow the
exhaustion,
guilt.

You do.