in the fashion of prayers improperly received and answered untimely, i was made for you. hard-skinned, tender-handed, soft-hearted, i am all you need, though what you need isnβt always what you want, and itβs something neither of us have yet resigned ourselves to.
i learn within a decade or two to love you unconditionally. my proudest achievement.
i wait outside and listen to you cry, and it becomes my lifeβs mission to make you happy. the world has been cruel to you, and it has accumulated in you and made your bones blacken. i fill a bucket with warm water, soak a rag, sit with you and become a vessel through which you learn what itβs like to be adored.
i sit where you left me and watch, patient as i am for you, while you tear up the planet looking for something you already have.
my body has grown used to taking your knife, mastering with years of practice, to become the perfect cut of meat. human stone sculpture, i stay still and hold my breath while you hammer away at me, trying to make me look how you want me to. and when you step back, stare, and force a smile, i donβt tell you that i know who you pretend i am.
i tried to escape once, and i nearly did, or at least i believe i nearly did, and then i was split open and destroyed, and sent back. back to where iβm meant to be. i do not mind anymore when you paint me black and blue i know you like me best that way.
you put me on a rocket ship and told me to make it to the moon and back. that youβll consider loving me then. and i watch again, from where you told me to go, as you try and find something that suits you better.
and i count the days till i come back to take your disappointment and turn it, through my conversion-machine flesh and blood, into something gentle and kind.
you turn your back on me for the seven hundred thousandth time and i hear you praying as you always do, for something to be sent down that can save you from this hell. god and i both wait for you to turn around.
