all i wanted was to show you love,
that family isn’t all about blood,
but i was just a roof over your head,
snacks, phone, Gatorade, and a huge comfy bed.

all i wanted was to keep you safe,
to fight your battles while you changed,
but with fists you fought over words that didn’t matter,
and with your own words, sliced through me like a dagger.

i gave you a chance after you told me to die
but if i’m honest, my love said goodbye,
for then began the wait for the day you’d leave.
i was naive to believe it’d be easy to grieve.

my love for you, still embers of a once-burning flame,
i think of you often and hope you’re okay,
and that you’re learning what really matters in life,
at least enough that you can finally thrive.

*Two years ago I fostered one of my students, a teen. It was one of the darkest times of my life because I would’ve moved mountains to see her thrive, but she needed more than we could give. I started this poem right after she left, and found it in a journal last week, so I decided to finish it.

Sometimes I still wonder if we even helped, or just added to the trauma she endured.