she was a child

we were different.

blue was my color, red hers.
she liked
to fight,

she saw no humor in anything,
I saw
it in all.

she slept on the left,
me the right.

I preferred peace.
I tried to tell the truth.

she lied.
I had patience and loyalty.

she stared into her phone
hidden in her hand
and punched at the keys.

I walked at midnight,
she lay alone
and stared more into her
phone.

she cried. she played with
her rosary beads.

I listened.
she covered up her ears,
she wiped at her reddened eyes.

I saw the end.

she saw nothing but
the sadness of her life,

which had no end no matter
where
she was going next.

she was a child in need of
a father, only that,

might make it right.