Womanhood

To cherish and hold, wrap my arms around your warm shoulders, cradle your head to my shoulder, caress your hair shhhhh
“Baby”
Hold you to my chest,
“Baby”

Angry words. thorns and bristles. stinging stones. They will only irritate but never penetrate my skin

Child, I love you, and I mean you and only you, every you, whenever you, whole and true, pieces and all. I will bend down and pick up every piece and sweep the glass dust

Even though you’ll never be whole again I will put you together—all of this does not lessen me or weaken me or exhaust me

Play and pick at my insecurities
That is the price I pay to cry and laugh freely
I gladly pay

 

 

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