• An Ode to a Mother
    When I was just cells endlessly multiplying into billions and billions more that made a tiny person.
    You loved me.
    When I grew fingers, hands and feet; wiggling endlessly beneath the surface.
    You loved me.
    When my heart first started to beat, a little train of new life rushing towards a breath.
    You loved me.
    When I fought to break out and then took my time to leave.
    You loved me.
    When cold air rushed through my lungs and as one bond was cut so many more were formed.
    You loved me.
    When my hand wrapped around your finger and you smiled.
    You loved me.
    When I took steps and called you by that two syllable word that I would know you by for the rest of my life.
    You loved me.
    When I cried, lied or skinned my knee, doing feats of imaginary heroics.
    You loved me.
    When I grew and wore green five days of the week, as I still do now, with the same feeling towards the colour.
    You loved me.
    When that one piece of paper drew my fate for the rest of the year, and was never up to one person’s standards.
    You loved me.
    When I slammed doors and called you names, when I obsessed over little things that have no point now or ever.
    You loved me.
    And when I grow, and tower above childhood like a nostalgic giant, up there with you on the throne of adulthood.
    You will love me still.

    Believe me,
    The feeling’s mutual.