The year I turned 40, I understood-
No love is greater than the love of God and your parents.

The year I turned 40, I learned-
A friendship of 20 years can vanish in a moment.

The year I turned 40, I realized-
A career isn't everything; it can be lost in the blink of an eye.

The year I turned 40, I saw-
The ones you trust most can be the ones who break your heart.

The year I turned 40, I knew-
Family is life's truest anchor, the only constant in a changing world.

The year I turned 40, I reflected-
On the time and money wasted on people who were never meant to stay.

The year I turned 40, I embraced-
The comfort is pajamas over the illusion of a party dress.

Yet in that year, I also discovered-
That some people remain, no matter where life takes you.
They do not care for status, wealth or circumstance-
They care for YOU, and they are the ones to treasure.

The year I turned 40...

my bones miss structure
even if it’s borrowed
a timetable stitched from deadlines
just enough to tie me to something
outside my own spiraling

now, all i have is time
feral and barefoot
spilling into corners
where potential goes to wilt
too much of my life for nobody to hold

no duties to tether me
no rush, no reason
just the sound of myself growing louder

my hands itch for anything but survival

let me bleed for burden and responsibility
instead of rotting in my own brain
let me fall apart for someone else

still, i need to stay alive
to wrap the babies in my warmth
to meet the mothers
between screams and surrender
so they’ll finally feel safe with me

for now, i stare at the scars on my wrist
and think of all the pain i’ll carry differently
when it’s not just my own
but from holding too much of another life
and never letting it slip away

the lives i hope to live long enough to see

so when they breathe for the first time
i’ll know how to do it too

i want to be held
and rocked like i was wanted from the start
with arms that hush the noise
and cradle my aching heart

i want the skin of your hand
to graze my cheek so light
in the way that says, “you’re my baby girl,”
and makes the world feel right

i want to rest my head in your lap
and feel you hum a tune
like safety has a quiet sound
that softens up the room

this isn’t romantic
this is what should’ve been mine
what most people have never had to grieve
because they’ve had it the whole time

Touching with caution
warmth upon warmth
kissing hairs

nails very softly
in circles and strokes
across your back

Everything safe, breathe
Falling asleep dreamlessly
and still know it

Whatever the day was like
whatever tomorrow's
program is: caressing hand

happy back
buttocks kiss
the warm belly