You were a small girl
clinging to yourself
because everything
was left empty
orphaned
one way or another
you built yourself up
from the inside out
ribs first, a cage for lungs
shattered but lasting
breathe in breathe out
the heart with its pale
fragile beat, locked inside
its bars of bone, a stomach
tied in knots, a clever mind
storing every fact and hurt
your spine rigid, holding
certainty and loss
and hidden deep a womb
to bring the love you needed
You should have known
when you gave birth to me
that I was only a child
I could not feed you
clothe you, hold you
fast against the dark night
