My Little Calliope

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Tears flow down and sit on my cheeks.
The covers intertwine with my body.
Fear washes over me.
My thoughts compete with one another for my attention.
Focus can’t seem to come fast enough.

His hand reaches out to me.
I try to reach for his hand, but my hand catches his Spiderman pajamas and slips.
I can’t reach far enough.
My body shifts to the right and then to the left, breaking me free of my confines.

My hand rests on the edge of the paper.
I look up to see his nine years of inspiration staring at me.
Looking up I see the brown eyes of encouragement.
Ink replaces the tears, washing words onto the paper.

When the day comes that I let go,
I will say goodbye and the sea will close up again.





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