My heart catches in my throat when I think of you.
Your face in an upturned smile next to me in the car.
Time won't erase the twinkle in your eye, the freckles dotting your face.
You are a snapshot pinned to my heart.
I hear your giggles, a spectral sound.
You haunt me.
You light up my world,
even though you're rarely around.
Your crunchy socks still dot my floor.
You left tabasco on the table.
Tiny morsels laying around
beckoning me to find my way home.
I can't go back to who I was,
and I know that's changed you now, too.
The rift caused by my leaving
can't be bridged by our favorite songs.
Still, we jam on.
In the car, doing 80,
for a second we're still the same.
I'm your mom, and you're my kid.
Sometimes nothing's changed.
Then I have to take you home.
The faded lights from my past
bring me back to now.
I wish I could make you whole again.
I wish I could heal me too.
I cry when you're here.
I cry when you're gone.
I cry when it seems like
nothing is wrong.
Still, we jam on.
