{"id":3916,"date":"2012-03-21T19:19:58","date_gmt":"2012-03-22T02:19:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/?p=3916"},"modified":"2012-03-21T19:19:58","modified_gmt":"2012-03-22T02:19:58","slug":"half-heartedly","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/2012\/half-heartedly\/","title":{"rendered":"Half Heartedly"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\">I fret back and forth,<br \/>\nBite my fingers for a moment<br \/>\nHide it by tilting my face away<br \/>\nLook, look away<br \/>\nTilt my head this way and that<br \/>\nFrame my face with worried fingers<br \/>\nSupporting my chin on my hand<br \/>\nPurse my lips, bite my lip<br \/>\nLook back again<br \/>\n&#8212;<em>Mom!<\/em><br \/>\nLike a thunder clap<br \/>\nIt brings me back again<br \/>\nThe clouds over my face part<br \/>\nI smile half-heartedly<br \/>\n<em>I have to go<\/em><br \/>\nShe looks up at me with an odd look<br \/>\nLurking in her stormy grey eyes<br \/>\nThey are her father\u2019s<br \/>\nSo much like her father<br \/>\nI begin to bite my nails again<br \/>\nFlick my eyes off towards the window<br \/>\nThrowing my attention across the room<br \/>\nSo I don\u2019t have to look at her<br \/>\nQuestion looming in those haunting eyes<br \/>\nA light but insistent tug on my dress<br \/>\nBrings me back<br \/>\nI look down and smile<br \/>\nHalf heartedly<br \/>\n<em>You are going to have so much fun<\/em><br \/>\nI place my shaking hand on the top of her head<br \/>\nFeeling her feathery hair<br \/>\nTrace my finger along the red ribbon twisted<br \/>\nAmong the feathers of her hair<br \/>\nSo soft and smooth<br \/>\n<em>So much fun<\/em><br \/>\nI mutter to myself as my attention drifts away again<br \/>\n<em>&#8211;the bus<\/em><br \/>\nthe honk hits me like a slap to the face<br \/>\nI wince slightly<br \/>\nClawing to bring me back to her to here<br \/>\n<em>I really have to go now<\/em><br \/>\nShe reaches up with her little hands and turns<br \/>\nThe door knob slowly and with effort<br \/>\nI place my hand over hers<br \/>\nHelping her open the door that is too big for her<br \/>\nI feel the softness of her unmarred hands<br \/>\nI wonder if she feels the bones of my fingers<br \/>\nThe sadness etched lines of my hands<br \/>\nIt swings open<br \/>\nShe runs out the door<br \/>\nLike a clumsy fawn<br \/>\nHer back pack shifting back and forth<br \/>\nThe monster in front of the house waits<br \/>\nTaking her away from me<br \/>\nI hover at the doorway<br \/>\nUnwilling to leave the threshold<br \/>\nBut unwilling to let her go<br \/>\n<em>&#8211;Wait!<\/em><br \/>\nA desperate yell<br \/>\nBursts from my breaking heart<br \/>\nShe stops and looks back at me<br \/>\nThat question still hiding in her eyes<br \/>\nI hesitate for only a moment<br \/>\nAnd depart from the sanctuary<br \/>\nRunning down the little walkway<br \/>\nOn legs atrophied with sorrow<br \/>\nI stop before her<br \/>\nShe says nothing<br \/>\nJust looks up at me with stormy eyes<br \/>\nInnocent and curious<br \/>\nI grab the end of the red ribbon<br \/>\nWhich had come undone on her escape from the house<br \/>\nI kneel in front of her<br \/>\nAnd tie the ribbon with foolish hands<br \/>\nThat shake even as I smile<br \/>\nHalf-heartedly<br \/>\nAnd look into her eyes<br \/>\nI smooth her hair when I am finished<br \/>\nPut my hands whittled away with grief<br \/>\nOn her small shoulders<br \/>\nLet out a sigh<br \/>\nThat wanted to be a scream<br \/>\nAnd watch<br \/>\nAs she faintly smiles and turns away<br \/>\nThe monster honks again<br \/>\nTaking her away from me<br \/>\nI slowly stand as the bus drives away<br \/>\nLeaving me on the shores of my sorrow<br \/>\nAlone<br \/>\nWith half a heart.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I fret back and forth, Bite my fingers for a moment Hide it by tilting my face away Look, look away Tilt my head this way and that Frame my face with worried fingers Supporting my chin on my hand Purse my lips, bite my lip Look back again &#8212;Mom! Like a thunder clap It [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[472,62,118,1766,149,739,1757,41,1767,1768],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3916"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3916"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3916\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3917,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3916\/revisions\/3917"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3916"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3916"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3916"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}