#writingdf

But my mom and I give each other

“Heart-hugs”

Lining up the center of our chests

And I know this is not where our heart actually is

But from the center of your chest

I feel your life-time beating into my own

I feel the son that you said made you into a family

I see years of baby teeth hidden

behind pillows that you kept like a

secret

i hear

don’t worry

you got this

these are the moments

where she cleans up the cobwebs from the corner of my dreams

moments of facing fears

raw panic

she knows

and then when I tell her this time I really actually need a heart-hug

(and silently tell her that this time is always)

she breathes in my doubt,

arms wrapping around me

with an exhale says,

you got this

just breathe

you got this

When my parents laid down a foundation of love

built from their support, created me a home

My mom showed me a framed note

that read

You got this.

My dad told me,

“it was like Christmas for your mom when she found you that.”

It’s your thing

If our thing Is a daughter

Learning acceptance

Patience

Self-love

From her mother

Then yes

I would write you a letter full of questions.

I would write to ask if you knew how hungry my hands were today.

And if you familiarize yourself.. With the feelings, the feelings of my fingers- their famine? Are we familiar?

Is my mouth hungrier than my lips? They’ve been known to touch, to feel, and grab. Do your lips have midnight cravings?