living vicariously through myself

i've learned to be

intangible

my actions are not my own.

i am merely a parent,

projecting their successes onto an infant

as it takes its first steps

into the unknown

and then getting angry

when it

moves away from me

into something else entirely.

once, i would have attempted

to grab it as it fled

fingers closing around a tattered sheath

of youth

and pulling it away to reveal

the monster it hides beneath.

a monster that looks a little too much like me.

once, i would have fought,

but today i can no longer see myself in my eyes,

today i can no longer feign my surprise

when my body

gets up

and walks away

leaving me on the bedroom floor

for someone easier to adore,

and I unwind:

out of touch.

out of sight.

out of mind.