Love and fear, two things I carry here
A ****** emblazoned with a logo of love
In the form of
A giant red smear
I wonder who you were
if I would have let you be
If you’d been clever like your dad
or liked writing as much as me
I’m waiting on some profound realization that it’s not as bad as it seems
That I’m waiting to be the best mom I can be
Be a better person for someone that comes from me
And it’s my body, my choice
to rob myself of joy
To imagine what you’d looked like in the face of other little boys
Maybe I choose to yearn for a faceless little girl, when her dad’s hair gets damp and curls
And maybe it’s my body, my choice
but I’ll always wish I’d known your voice.