She held me from her heart, to her womb, and to her hands.
She held me even when I could not walk, and even when I could not talk.
My ma even fed me and taught me how to hold a fork.
Her porridge on a saturday afternoon,
The way it taste like eating the clouds with honey.
My ma loves me even when she never tells me,
She turns the light switch off every night to put me to sleep.
She loves me unconditionally,
And even when I come home with a broken bone,
She holds me in her arms and somehow that fixes me
My ma gave me her time, her love and even her eyes.
I've come to love her flaws and imperfections, cause she loved me and thought me how to make better decisions.