Sticky

We don't want it, but--

Every other detail is a mess.

What to do, where to go,

Both too young to face this,

Her sick and him confused,

Neither having to imagine,

Having to adult quite like this,

And now a baby, a life, a choice.

It's her choice and she knows it,

Looking at the pamphlet again,

Tears lingering though it's painless,

It's no big deal, everyone gets one.

The people with the signs disagree

And she sees them heckling

As she drives past again and again,

Knowing she's running out of time.

He wants to say it but can't

As some invisible emotion grabs him

Everytime the word comes to mind.

He's never had a father, never been one,

And it's not his decision for his own kid.

It's not his place, yet the dreams stay

Of him and her running through the park,

His son's math homework, twins graduating...

He doesn't text back anymore,

So she stares at her phone in the room,

Holding back the tears as she waits.

He is miles away, doing the same,

Trying but failing to make the words out

That he isn't ready but wants to be

And doesn't want to be another statistic

Showing up at his baby's draft signing.

The seconds are agonizing as it grows,

Forming, molding, becoming a little life,

A little dependent looking to them,

But they don't regret it all the time,

Watching her take her first steps,

Going from house to house

Since she couldn't hold them together

Nor could the second or the third.

She listens in as her mom sobs again,

Barely five with two little brothers,

Her mom saying she can't do it again,

Can barely take care of them alone.

Their dad tried but ran, wishing he had

More love, more money, more balls

Than he did, so he hit her hard with it --

I wish you'd just aborted the damn baby.

Never meant it, now imagining his kids

Far away in another city, wishing to go back,

Hold her and apologize instead of running,

Leaving her to the next man so willing

To toss three hundred at her and bail

On her and leave his kids alone again.

He sees it on Facebook unfold,

Her tears, the receipts, the test, then nothing.

She wanted it, and he knew, knowing her,

Knowing how she was with the kids,

He almost goes back again,

But thinks about all that was said,

All the hell he caused her with the other woman,

His daughter refusing to cry as she coddled

Her twin brothers who were learning from him

At one that to be a man, you run.

He didn't mean it then, but he sees them

Taking his words to heart and nurturing them.

Now old, watching his daughter

Denounce deadbeats, holding her own baby,

Her own decision and life choices

As she bashes another man that she chased

Hoping for a dad and getting a deadbeat,

And regrets ever thinking of that little word.