so i hope and wait and i hope and wait and i hope
that the mess i have grown and cared for
tended like a garden
cried alongside of (you were there, too, i remember)
will decide to cave in on itself
or, better yet
flowers will grow from underneath
pushing the soil until it sprays into my face
making me a mess
even worse when i cry
turning it to mud
on my eyes
i will see again
he has promised me that i would see