How Can I Love Him?

Tell me why
he wants nothing
but apple juice.
Cheese is not
an art form,
and neither
are feces.
Please don’t kill
the cat,
and also
don’t kill me.

But tell me why
he’s still so cute,
while shattering
my eardrums,
nay, my soul.
How can I love
someone so destructive
and picky
and worrisome
and adorable…

My eyes,
his shape,
arms that reach up
whenever he’s hurt.
How business like
he is with
a pink and purple
plastic shopping cart,
full of ancient
Hot Wheels.
And how seriously
he looks at me
as he expounds
his toddler philosophies,
all spoken
in gibberish
(of course).

My baby.
My energy.
My son.
My sanity.

Nevermind. I think I know why.


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