the loss of my life

from the weary heart —

“I’ll still see it until I die, you’re the loss of my life.”

It’s 6 AM,

the world is quiet,

but our night has been anything but.

Since 3 AM, we’ve danced this fragile rhythm,

up and down, waking and holding,

your cries breaking the silence,

breaking me.

As I cradle you now,

I wonder

will this be the last time?

The end feels closer, like a shadow stretching long.

Each day takes more of you,

each breath feels heavier,

your little body waging a war it was never meant to fight.

I see your pain in every twitch,

hear it in every cry,

and my heart screams,

let it be me instead.

But baby, my sweet, sweet baby,

you can leave

when you are ready.

When your body is too tired

to carry this burden any longer,

it’s okay.

We will make it somehow.

We’ll miss you in every breath,

every corner of the day

where you should have been.

My arms will ache for you,

my heart will shatter,

but we will carry you with us.

You, my firstborn.

The one who made me a mother.

The one who rewrote my heart,

carving depths I never knew existed.

The one who changed me forever.

I will see you in every sunrise,

feel you in every breeze,

and when I close my eyes,

I’ll hear your laugh,

feel the weight of you in my arms.

“I’ll still see it until I die

you’re the loss of my life.”

And even then,

you’ll be there.

My always.