I’ve gone soft.
You made me this way.
From my breasts to my belly, what once was firm is now pillowy.
But that ice hard heart has melted too.
Because of you.
Eyes that barely flinched before now flutter with tears when I think of anything that reminds me of helpless you.
When I hear other mothers’ babies cry, my heart breaks.
When I see other mothers’ babies all grown up, I weep.
One day you’ll be too big for my arms, too.
And when I hear of other mothers’ babies in pain, I crumble.
How can I help stop the hurt?
Save the world from pain?
I used to be hard. That was before.
Now I’ve gone soft.
And I’ll stay that way as long as I’m a mother… which is to say,