It’s been a couple hours
I finally convinced myself I’m breathing.
I overdosed on my anxiety
But my hearts back to even beating.

I’m focus on forward
Steady chanting in my head
The next minute the next hour
The next day that lies ahead.

Loves a tricky fickle thing
It’s sense of humor gone awry
Hopes a tricky fickle thing
Birthed on a bed of lies

I think I might be breathing
It’s been a couple seconds more
I met our future daughter
In never-was and never-more

She smiles at me blindly
Searches my arm for your dear hand
I can’t bring myself to tell her
I just don’t think she’d understand.