A gaping hole wider than our planet’s surface
Grows inside her
and I watch
Yearning to pick her up in my wide arms and rock her back to whole
Benched on the side lines
I watch the game over and over
Screaming out profanities play after play
But…
it’s not mine
Not mine to play
Not mine to watch
Not mine at all
So I walk off the field
Hoping
Reminding myself to trust
The player
Her ability to fill that hole
Without me.