Open Adoption

I used to check the mailbox every day

looking for something with my name

written in loose cursive,

with a Georgia postage stamp

telling me you love me

I dream of that mailbox

barren and sad, creaky door

flaccid flag, with nothing inside

I dream of ups drivers and big brown parcels,

just for me

I read your letters

to my mother

the woman who raised me

I hear the pain in your hand

when you ask why she doesn’t write

I’m sorry she didn’t write

I’m sorry for what was stolen from us

I’m afraid you’ve died

I look up your name in the obituaries online

like a ritual

So many have died

None are your age

It’s mothers day and my dreams say

I have repressed rage

I always thought it was a super power

Being able to stash it away, but

now there is only pain

and feeling afraid

My dreams tell me

I can’t live this way

Dreamscape

I had a dream that you walked away from me

Your eyes slid from my face like a sliding glass door

Clicking into place

On the street in front of you

You were wearing a black baseball jacket 

With a black baseball cap

Cocked to the side in the way that you do

Always leaning, always swayin’

And there was something in your eyes

A finality

Which leaves me wondering if 

Dream has finally merged with reality.