come

when you’re

sitting still

funny like that

last summer, i spent my days at home.

stuck inside, stuck in the middle of wifey

and mom life things. stuck in love

with the way things were moving.

i was truly okay with the calm. i was okay

with birthing new things, i was learning

how to give my all—to a new life,

this was a new thing. i—spent my time

swinging in my backyard,

overlooking the valley view.

overthinking, about whether

i was doing a good job or failing.

i cried at the thought of miscarrying you.

misleading you like they did me.

they left me to fend for my own,

teaching me love isn’t a victory.

teaching me that family is a

made up thing, you’ve only

got your impulse. you can

only trust the moment. there

isn’t much to look forward to.

so i’ve never looked forward.

i just wanna do the right thing.

i wanna expose you to an

honest, healthy life—i wanna

love you in a new way. i

wanna show you how to hold

someone. i wanna show you

how it feels to be held. i wanna

show you how it feels to be

welcomed—flaws and all.

so i sat with you. i learned

your language. i learned patience.

i learned how to sit silent.

i learned—nothing was ever

fully about me. i’m only the vessel.

last summer i learned to love.

despite my feelings, despite myself..

i woke up every hour

to make sure you were

breathing correctly.

i came near, just

to hug you tighter.

just to let you know

i was there. i waited

for you to wake up

i put you first.

naturally, i put me

second. i don’t regret it.

but so

last summer, i lost ahold of myself.

self care slipped right out from underneath

my fingertips. i forgot the meaning

of downtime. i forgot how to laugh.

how to say i need help, without guilt.

so i sat with you

i spoke your language

i heard your voice for the first time.

i sat with patience.

i listened.

i listened when you told me,

“i am not trying to be a burden.”

i listened when you said

you are here to make me happy.

i heard you make it clear,

you said “hi, my name is umi.”

you mentioned us being soulmates.

you said, “nice to meet you.”

you said, “take your time.

i will love you—regardless.”

“take your time

i will love you.

regardless.”

do you promise?

often we speak

about holding

ourselves

accountable

when we are wrong

—but how?

do you show up?

do you reach out?

do you apologize?

do you swallow your pride

and set your ego to the side?

do you own up

to how you were wrong?

in every which way?

do you promise

not to do the same,

again?

you stunt your growth

when spirit calls you

to do a different kind

of work than you’re used to

—and you decide not to,