Once upon a frightful year

When I was but a babe

I forsook the nine month timeline

And decided to escape

 

To follow my example then

My lungs refused to breathe

And to keep my tiny heart afloat

They placed me on machines

 

Once or twice a fortnight

Or once or twice a night

Alarms would tell my mother

While giving her a fright

 

That I was on death’s doorstep

Turning blue and frigid

Not to breathe again until

She flipped me and insisted

 

But though my lungs would not expand

My arms would do my bidding

And sometimes I would cause the sensor

To be a bit ill-fitting

 

Alas, she grew so weary

She tired of this annoyance

This babe that interrupted slumber

Allowed to be so joyous

 

And so she threw the sensors out

She said to me, good luck

If you can move your arms

Then you can breathe, you stupid fuck

 

And isn’t that so funny?

A tale of me as tiny human

At least she found it humorous

At family reunions