I never thought I would be

the dock they'd push off from when they thought
they were finally good and ready;

the template against which they might model
a life, if not a tiny waistline;

the listening post for their sorrows, the one
to approve their fashion and life choices;

the one who knew not to comment
on the tattoos, the nose and eyebrow piercings;

the one to empty and make do
until empty could apparently be more empty.

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