Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.

 

Why does it take a pandemic for you to remember you have a child?

The concern didn’t really come from you, but your sister. Always your sister, attempting to forge a connection. Always communicating, always making excuses for you. 

Why can’t you see what I see when I look at our child. Why don’t you see what everyone else sees in him? Why can’t you feel what a parent is supposed to feel?

You’ve never held our child, or consoled our child. When he cries or has a nightmare you don’t know. You don’t know his fears, you don’t know his joys. You don’t know his teachers, and you don’t know his friends.

 Why can’t you see, what I see when I look at our child. 

The biggest task you have is to be there for him, of course not in person, but just via video chat. That must be the easiest task in the world as a parent. Just talking once/twice a week, but you can’t do it. 

What happens? For a few weeks it’s fun, then you get bored? Or Is it because of me? Holding you accountable, for the lies and the false promises you fill our child’s head with. 

Why can’t you see, what I see when I look at our child. 

I’m coming over, I’m working on my passport, I can’t come because of the virus, I just have a few things to sort out and then I can visit you, I’m painting your room, I’ve sent you some things, I’ve sent you some money, I’m sending you some things, I got to the post office and it was shut. What’s your address again? Lies over and over again.

Why can’t you see, what I see when I look at our child. 

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. Yes, I’m the fool who prays you’ll treat our son better. That for once you’ll stick to your word. The fool that believes you’ll see his beauty, intelligence, kindness, charm, sense of humour, and the love he has. 

Why can’t you see, what I see when I look at our child. 

They say a leopard never changes its spots, but I pray you will for our boy. One day, I hope you will be there for our boy. I am the fool that keeps praying, because I love our boy. I wish I could rearrange your thoughts, so you were a better person for our boy. 

Until you see what I see, I will raise our boy to be strong.

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men“. Frederick Douglass

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies  follows Gladys’s story submitted for My Story 2019 – Fairy Tale of New York