in a perfect world,
i am not plagued with ever-present sorrow
i am not a hostage to my own emotions
i am not a caretaker to the rationalization of loss
in a perfect world,
my desire to jump headfirst isn’t tinged with shattered memories of abandonment
my "I love you’s" aren’t followed up with a thought of when those words will eventually fade into nothing
my body isn’t marked by those who did not love me
in a perfect world,
i get along with my father
i see my sister and my brother as often as i’d like
and all the things i now consider a "broken family" do not have definitions to me
in a perfect world,
my mom watches me graduate college
she watches me walk down the aisle in a white wedding gown
she is there to witness the birth of my children
and gush about how elegant their names are
and how much they look like me
in a perfect world,
my mom is just a phone call away
never unreachable due to night or day
and i have an unlimited amount of "I love you’s" for the rest of our lives
but this isn’t a perfect world
and that, i’ve come to accept
i just hope when i scream "I love you" to the stars,
she hears me.