To My Step-Daughter

You let too much water flow under the bridge;
The water keeps rising, your indifference is washing it away.
You think I will be there later to help, like some kicked puppy
You have always assumed wrong, thinking if I had shown no teeth
I had none. I am willing to let you flow away, your head bobbing
in the demanding current. You are an adult now – if you insist
on refusing my hand, it’s up to you to swim or drown. You see,
your father had thought he built a strong enough bridge, one
that could withstand your eroding dismissal. The only thing
he left for you to inherit was me. It was up to only you
to disinherit. In the flood of grief, I admit my heart has never been
yours; you’re too rough with hearts given you, but my hand was.
And you left it red and bloodied. Swim or drown.
How could I love you?


Ariel
April 28, 2011