Your appearance was so subtle and sweet So much so that I didn’t notice you Until April 2nd You were but a flutter in my stomach, The caterpillar before the butterfly.
The doctor said you were blooming Beautifully. That’s why I named you Annabelle Rose
I painted your room soft shades of Yellow and pink With blue birds and sunflowers Adorning the walls.
You would have loved traveling. Maybe that’s why you departed so early. You could never stand to Be in one place for too long
You were just like your mother. You were just like me.
You were stronger than me though, Because you never even cried. Eyes glued to my face, wordlessly telling me What I already knew.
I cried that day.
Open. Exposed. Childless.
I lost you, But your spirit still lies within me. Forever in my womb.
Little lady only 13. Never pretty enough but smart as can be. No friends just books. Mom overworked so no dinner just lonely. She was bullied for years: isolated in insecurity, abandonment, and unhappiness until she was 17. Senior year
From my late night reads , To our play .. You were there , Little devil … With that gleam in your eyes And sound of your whistle . My closest buddy in animals disguise, I talked , you listened
One time above a little shop, An old greengrocer climbed on top, Despite himself he could not stop, The world had changed forever. The fruit of that old grocers loins, Became obsessed with notes and coins, She knew the club
The world is a race If you want to succeed, pick up your pace Keep running, focus, put in extra hours, fly solo But doesn’t this make you feel empty and hollow? Be yourself, be silly, be alive, spread joy
I hear clomps through the doorway. Are they here to take me away? Should I scream for help? Do they care? Or should I leave my room and dare? What have they come in search of? What do I have
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