My Truth

My truth feels wrong and shameful.

It is about a life

That was ruined.

That I can't let go of.

Is it possible to love something

And also mourn what it took from you?

Motherhood robbed me of me

And yet I'm supposed to love it.

It pulled the ground from under my feet

And left me dazed

To pick up the shards of my former self.

I'm still broken

And resentful.

Petulant

Like a child.

I don't blame my child

For taking what was mine,

A life I loved and nurtured

With the kind of care

You bestow on baby birds

That have fallen from the nest.

I guess I still blame myself

For not knowing

What was to come.