Carried
For nine long months You carried me And though we shared Identity You chose to hand me Over to Another mother Who was not you I had no voice I could not say If I would go Or I would stay For I was young I could not know In which direction Life would go I understand That it was tough It's not that I Was not enough You carried me And this I know The bond we shared Will never go
Goodness Trudi, I feel an ache. Beautiful words you’ve written, with such acceptance. 💕
Your lines opened like a bruise that glows.
A quiet ache, carried without accusation, only truth.
You named the bond without clinging to it, and that steadiness… it lingers. There’s a softness in you that knows how to hold what was broken without breaking again. Let that part breathe a little longer.