relief that she sleeps through the night now and terror that one day she won't wake up, is that what it is, is that why i can't sit still even when there's nothing to do, i keep looking for the disaster that hasn't happened yet, the shoe that hasn't dropped, the bill that hasn't arrived, the word i haven't heard, fifteen minutes is supposed to be for me, for god's sake, me, who even IS that anymore, who was i before? the garden is exploding with green, mockingly, the forsythia i almost killed last year is a riot of yellow and i can't even remember putting the damn thing in the ground, maybe that's what the fifteen minutes are FOR, maybe it's to find her, the one i keep losing. is this what rebirth feels like? because i'm not sure i like it. the forsythia is laughing, i swear it.