Come Momma

Come Momma

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Come Momma…touch me.

Feel my warmth before it vanish.

Feel my crimson cheeks.

Don’t be afraid, Momma.

I’m not angry…come closer.

Take a look at your boy,

My green eyes which opposed yours,

Once hope for the first sight,

Of your first smile;

These curly lashes, crooked nose,

My tiny lips;

All from yours Momma,

So don’t be afraid…look at your boy.

Regard not for my twisted legs.

My battered arms and crumpled bones.

For once they are flawless.

They are of my father’s, right Momma?

I dreamed once for a baseball cap.

A baseball game where I can use those arms;

My father would be the pitcher,

And I would be the batter.

And I saw you too Momma,

Laughing with my every weak sway;

Wouldn’t that be fun Momma?

Come Momma…Don’t be afraid.

Cradle me, and hug me tight.

Clean this bloody mess,

And let me suck your breast.

I waited for months.

To see the world’

I tried to hold tight,

As the monster pulled me out;

I can’t bear the pain Momma

I’d screamed!

But I know it hurts you too.

For you screamed more than I did;

It was then that I let go.

See? It wasn’t your fault Momma.

I let go.

Look at me now Momma.

Bathed with your precious blood;

Lying on this cold can;

I’m not angry at you,

Nor with Dada;

For I know you had reasons more than I do.

Just promise me,

That soon when baby brother come.

Show him the world,

The world I’d never seen.

Come Momma…closer.

Are you not going to hug your son?