A chance

I want a child

a chance to prove that the damage isn't the whole story.

To hand down a lullaby

that doesn't end in a fight.

A chance to stay calm when the milk spills.

I want to say 'I love you' so much that it becomes wallpaper

boring but consistent.

I want to watch a mini me

the one with my partners eyes

bloom like a tulip in the spring.

Just a chance to prove

It didn't have to be hard.

I never want a child

so I don't pass it down.

The anxiety

it's a second set of lungs

it breathes for me when I forget.

The anger

it's a pipe that bursts

at the wrong word,

the wrong tone,

at the wrong time.

What if it lives in my blood like a latent gene?

Just waiting to be set off.

What if I hold a crying baby

and my hands remember my mothers hands,

and my voice betrays me?

'Want me to give you something to cry about?'

But what if the storm inside me calms

letting the flood dry up?

I'm stuck between two doors

one that opens a nursey

one that opens a locked room.

I can't tell which is mercy

so I stand in the hallway

with shaky hands.

I could be soft-

I could end it all with me.