And I wish you would know that
I know how you feel.
How I know what you've been through.
And how I've been through it
Too.
Because then we might talk,
Shattering unscratched glass with the first sentence,
"What did you get for Number Seven?"
You would say, "Negative eleven, just factor..."
Maybe one day you'd text me and
Ask what the homework was
Because our teacher didn't tell you
From when you were sick.
And eventually, after tons of small talk,
After "How's the weather?"
Got old,
I could finally tell you
That I know.
I'd tell you that
I'm here, not the fake kind of here,
Which sounds like,
"I-know-and-I'm-here-and-you-can-talk-to-me-goodbye-forever­."
Not like that.
But the kind of here
That asks what ****** about your day,
And sends you links to cat videos,
And the kind of here
That texts you at two in the morning
And asks if you're alright
And doesn't take yes for an answer.

Cut from my womb
no signs of life
no first breath
no first cry
no first cuddle
I did not get to count your fingers or toes
nor did I get to look into your eyes
you were taken and I was left alone
wondering and fearful

Our first meeting through a plastic box
wires, tubes, laboured breathing
so frail and broken
tears and hopes as I held your tiny hand
afraid as tears wet my face

So tiny for such a brave warrior
fighting against the odds
as we stayed by your side
marvelling at your strength
and the devotion of those that cared

The first time I held you
gingerly fearing tangled wires
I finally felt that you belonged to me
my little man

Our first night alone
much overdue
rush of love
as you snuggle in
and suckle like a pro
Soon I could take you home
and you would truly belong to us

Now time has passed
you grew and found your feet
my naughty little adventurer
who is far to busy to sleep
full of life as if making up for lost time