All I can think of these days
is all I endure
and I tell myself
it’s so
my daughter doesn’t have to
when she encounters the world
on her own.
But the sad fact is
I’m raising her
to be prepared
to endure the same things,
and it hurts me
to my soul…
The thought that
she’d ever have to
diminish herself
for another’s comfort,
or approval
is painful to conceive of…
I have optimistic hopes
that her life, her future
will be kinder to her
than mine has been
to me.
And even still,
I look at the world around me,
the shambles I find it in,
and I wonder
how we got here,
and when
we’ll get to leave.