Dear baby,
It’s not you
It’s me.
The same thing I said to
All your potential fathers,
Which resulted in an irreversible fate.
A fate that affects us both.
Your fate being,
That you’ll never take a breath.
My fate being,
A life of fun and spontaneousness,
With the price of you.
Dear baby,
I promise it’s easier this way.
I stay in my place,
You stay in yours.
You’re safer far away from me.
You won’t be safe with me,
Not even tucked away deep inside my womb,
Like a warm blanket full of love and prosperity.
But dear baby,
My sweet dear baby,
You would never love me.
You would be trapped in a world of constant movement,
Instability,
A mother who cannot keep her **** together,
Crying on the bathroom floor until 3 in the morning,
And you will sit outside the door until we both fall asleep,
Separated by a wall and my own misery.
Most mothers pass down to their children heirlooms,
Diamond rings,
A bank full of money.
The only thing I can leave you, baby,
Is misery,
One good shot at possible redemption,
And a **** good idea for a book you might write
Based on your mess of a Mother.
My dear, sweet baby.
I love you,
But not in the way that you need.
Maybe someday I will wish we’d met,
And I’ll dream of what you might’ve looked like,
And how wonderful it must feel
To snuggle you close, back into the warmth of my embrace,
Like that blanket of love and prosperity.
But baby,
You can’t prosper here.
It’s not safe here.
This house is not a home.
What right do I have to give you a name
When I can’t even decide on a Starbucks order.
I call you my baby,
But you’re not mine.
You belong to someone else.
It is worth it,
Sacrificing whatever pure happiness
Everyone is always bragging about,
If it means I give you what’s best.
And I am not the best.
