Unable to calm her,
Unable to dry her tears,
I feel emptier than I have in years

I know she’s only 5,
She doesn’t understand,
All she wants is mommy home again

The guilt boils inside of me,
I feel it’s all my fault
Daddy and I split
Something no one ever thought

Unable to be there
Unable to chase her fears
My eyes are quickly flooded,
with uncontrollable tears

Her begging and her pleading,
Leaves my heart cold and bleeding
She only wants me home

Whats done is done,
No way to turn back
If only this were then
I’d have never done that

I’d give anything to be there
to watch her wake and sleep
I’d hold on forever
I’d have never made that break

About the author

Peony Ann

I am a mostly misunderstood child of the corn, born and raised in rural Illinois turned self-proclaimed writer with random, yet passionate opinions and views. It seems that I am self-taught because I was a stoner slack ass in high school who thought it’d be better to fuck around and see what kind of trouble I could make rather than to concentrate on a formal education. Who uses algebra in a corn field anyway?

My mission in life is to be me, be happy, and FTW if they don’t like it. I used to know what I really wanted in life. Since I was 5 years old, all I wanted was to be married to the same woman my entire life, be a doctor, a writer, to have a litter all my own, and to be the “token ‘hot’ Asian” in most settings. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about being a boy, because girls were just so much prettier. Now, as I approach my dirty 30, I have accomplished only one of those things successfully because, well, I’m Asian and we breed like rabbits, resulting in my litter of 5.

I aim to please, entertain and boggle with “WTF?!” moments. I even throw around a little poetry. Some will find me apPAULing, others hilarious, and some would maybe even call me a messed up kind of special. Those are the ones nearest and dearest to me who paid for all of those bibs, large crayons, and the occasional straight jacket to provide my short bus driver with for her own protection. Oh, and the ones who supported me through the transformational surgeries from Paul to Peony. I just wanted to be a delicate fucking flower, is that so wrong? P.S. I love my new tits!