Squeezing every drop
A poem
--
I am the soft, quivering mess
that sits between you
as you watch TV.
Love, birth, growth, repeat:
you grew
from the rawest Me.
Together, we’ve been
squeezing every drop out of your childhood
stretching every fibre of my patience
siphoning every second out of every day
out of every year
since you arrived.
As I sit pulsating with love and rage
and fear and wonder,
I watch the moments between now
and when you no longer need me,
disappearing faster than your dessert.
Where once you lay for hours and fed,
my breast is now a place of rest
for just a fleeting moment,
following a scrape or squabble,
wail or wobble,
you cling to this fleshy part of me
with only the faintest memory
of why it means so much to you.
Then you’re off my lap
and off to rescue,
then destroy,
then rescue one another;
little fists clenched tight,
determined to defeat the enemy
and save the world.
You save my world
over and over.
You force me to question,
every minute of every game,
how much of you has come from me
and what I’ve given you,
save for your name.
A formidable team.
Both worthy opponents
to my not-so-adult arguments.
The power and synchronicity
with which you throw yourselves
on top of me is…
breathtaking!
Since your first breath
you’ve been my life.
Now for both of you I must keep breathing
and for you I’ll try to keep the beat;
steady and consistent, never stopping,
not to eat or sleep
or rest or weep.
Love doesn’t.
I am the soft, quivering mess
that sits between you
as you watch TV.
Heroes and villains from another world, fight,
while the villains of this “real” world
fight a common foe
and try to make heroes of themselves.
If home is where the heart is,
let’s stay home.
You are my left and right lung;
may you rise and fall
and rise again.
I’ll play my part:
until I’ve squeezed my last and
this life is over,
I will be your heart.
I will be your mother.
Amy Knight 2021
