What I Really Want To Say

What I really want to say is that the yard looks great

but nobody is around because it’s midday and I thought of edging

but that would take too long, I got things to do.

What I really want to say is my whole life

to anyone, to ask for help

with the little things

the dishwasher

pairing singular socks

walking the dog

cleaning

picking up, etcetera.

What I really want to say is it’s not easy watching your soccer stud son

collide with another player on the field

and you know immediately

it’s not good

because his head isn’t moving

and his body’s not moving

and your old friend helplessness

is also looking down on him

in that huddle of players and coaches

saying, “What a shame.”

Another ER visit

more x-rays and MRIs

more helping him move

more watching him in pain

I can’t remove.

I want to say that I’m tired of holding this up

that I can’t with my arms

so I turn away and let it rest on my back

but mostly on the high of my neck and it pushes me down

and I thought there would be others

to hear me, others who would be close

but they don’t get my not asking

is how I ask

and that is why everything

the dishes

the laundry

the yard

the children

the sometimes unkept house

are falling at my feet and I’m plumb tired

tuckered out.

What I really want to say is that, yes,

a single dad can be weak,

muscle and stoicism,

despite an “I got this,” attitude

I don’t.

Complaints stay sealed

I refuse to take the hands from others

men from wives

wives from families

that’s all, that’s all I wanted to say.

The featured image, “Microphone” by Evan Forester is made available via Creative Commons License CC BY 2.0. The image has not been changed.