What's Up, (Name Removed)

Amidst the day’s shifting scenes

I wonder where your presence leans

Are you studying, deep in thought?

Or dancing where the music’s wrought?

Perhaps a date or Xbox plays

Or on a stroll through evening’s haze

On screens or in a world unknown

Are you feeling lost or fully grown?

Are you happy, and filled with glee

In every moment, you’re with me

Though distance spans and time may touch

My love for you means so much

For those that don't know, I keep a bin for my son, who I haven't seen in well over 6 years now. It's increasingly difficult to buy gifts to put in there, as I don't know his likes or dislikes. I only know what he used to like. Not being able to know, is a punishment my mother has convinced everyone I deserve, even the courts, and claims it's for the benefit of my son. I know this, because I've read the court records. Despite having joint custody and visitation rights that the courts wouldn't enforce, even though in a court order, I never knew what my son liked. Despite the court order also saying his father had to communicate with me and tell me things, I never knew. I knew nothing, ever. So, I just do my best, and continue to do my best. Sometimes, I'm creative, sometimes I just have no clue, but he gets something in his bin, regardless for every occasion, and sometimes just for the fun of it.

So, this poem comes from wondering what he's up to, what he likes, etc. He thinks I don't give a shit about him, because that's what he's told. He's told me trying to enforce my visitation rights was some sort of, "Mentally ill power trip move." (Yes, my mother's words) I've said this before and I'll say it again, I will continue to show him otherwise by how I live my life, the letters I write him, the thoughtful gifts in his bin, and the pretend world I try to craft as if none of this ever happened, as if I had left home when I was 18 and pregnant, and never returned.

#BroeknRelationship

#WhizKhalifa

#SeeYouAgain