Hands have fallen softly
Resting on the rise and fall
Of dimpled home, now empty,

Laying gently opened, small.

I don’t know who I am now

But I’ve never felt more me.

My universe exploded

While my world shrunk up tiny.

“A mothers place is in the wrong”?

Feels true to me right now.

I hold in my mind, at the same time:

I’m not enough my love, I can’t,

Yet I am all you need and want.

I tell myself to be:

A cushion of safety,

A nest from which you cannot fall,

A fence that’s strong and wide and tall,

A cupboard that holds all your needs,

A room to let down all your tears.

You are mine, but I do not own you.

You are made of me, but you’re not a part of me.

I created you, but really – you created me.