Why I am Mum.

Being a mother is
forcing your eyes open because
there’s a fishing line hooked to your heart
and she’s tugging on it in the other room,
calling your name.
It is holding your breath for much
much longer than you thought you were able,
lungs pleading, it’s feeling
like king of the world.
Because you can direct her eyes,
and her mind, to a place of understanding,
to a world of open minds and
beautiful new things –
even where the lamp cord doesn’t stretch.
It is finding perfection in a coffee alone,
then bursting at your corners
to hold her again. To let her sink
her tiny demon claws into you.
Watching her stubborn perfection
whilst your stomach swells with pride,
because your child, the thing
you have built from scratch
is so cleverly brilliant, so her own her.
Bouncing from a plethora of friends,
she has no fear. No insecurity,
the security is me.
We are free.

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