"Pulling Away"
Those eyes that rival a tigers...
Nearly haunting me, I can't get the image of them out of my head.

I feel the tug on my red work shirt.
 As I turn, I realize who it is and crouch down to her height.
 With a sniff, she asks "Am I going to be okay?"

"What did we talk about last time?"

She and I have had this conversation dozens of times, it seems. 

"Not to look at the clock."
I start seeing into her skull. 
She's getting choked up and it's killing me inside.

"Yes, Momma'll come to pick you up when she said she's going to."

She gives me a half smile and throws her arms around my neck.

I know the feeling of holding the tears back for dear life--
I experience it when I try not to cry around others.
 I know the deep-in-your-gut pain
that goes along with repeating over and over to yourself,
"I'm not going to cry; I can keep it together.  I can do this."




God, will you take care of me like that?
Will you bend down to my level, wipe away my tears and tell me I'll be okay?
To you I am the child, and you're the counselor...