I curse the day our magic died,
I blame it on my onion-heart .
You peeled more layers
it stung your eyes and made you cry.
I wish you knew how hard I tried
to be more Jekyll
and a lot less Hyde.
Was either early or way too late
my crime is pain
I did my best to crawl through words
like a greenhorn soldier in a boot camp hell.
I know I failed the obstacle course
when I tried to climb the letter ‘L’.
I love you now, when I see clearly
for hoping that I won’t recede,
for loving that big part of me
that so wanted to succeed.
©2018 Troy Towns