Though it feels scripted like a well versed movie
When it arrives you ask yourself thorny questions
about whether it is real or deserving

They say it should be the first language spoken to babies
with coos, soft songs, warm blankets and warm milk.
Everyone doesn’t get this though
Some Mama’s are dragons
like they carry signs on their hearts saying closed until further notice
but those that are lucky don’t have the grieving unaligned struggle of cooing themselves to bed.

Those of us, who hugs feel good to.
Those of us who don’t grow mourning something they should have received
It’s luck of the draw
and I must have pulled the long straw because Mama did the best she could
and I forgive for all she couldn’t
I’m more and she never gets enough credit