Perspective: 1 AM

I've been through so much, it has to mean something. I've been through so much, it has to mean something. I've been through so much, it has to mean something. If I'm born once again on the day of my birth thirty years from then, let it not be of surprise. This is the time. The scrolls of directive to wait until, and patience points to the ledge of an outburst of chaos. Love bundled up into a dark matter of a thing just watching and stirring in the event that you may be ready for me. My purpose was made when my children were. I only really care to be heard so that the sound waves travel back into the deep roots of them, and in connection to everyone who drinks of the same.. water is my memory. Carries me into the depth of what you are terrified to meet, and up into the heights of heaven. I was made to be held afloat and engulfed in the presence of the beautiful negative of a miracle. That wholeness of particles not often acknowledged by the dull. I know they said don't wake love until it's time. I told myself, don't wake love til it's... mine, it's a treasure this time I spent lost and abused in a way to gain refined slates and embodied miracle. Diamonds and gems all placed for comparison to the alchemical fascination with all harsh things to make a matter such a thing as a star. I've been through so much, it has to mean something. I've been through so much, it has to mean something. I've been through so much, it has to mean something. I realized my purpose when I saw my child reel himself here from the fight with a thing that challenged the will to live. At four years old, everyday at least five times a day, every night ten to twenty, for six months. And I never knew what true strength was until I began to know him. That's when I knew he'd been through so much, it has to mean something. Transferred trauma in things people don't have adequate words to explain, what it does to a heart. Where we'd forget what it meant to know honest love, don't want to say because we'd assume it was a manipulation tactic. Transferred trauma in depending on the assumption that an event would be too painful to recall. My memory is here in the water. Looking at me in the eyes of my window to who knows me really. This has to mean something. I realized my purpose when I saw my son's character. I said we need more of us here. At four years old, he was too kind to be too close to others, too honest to be dependent on a vulture. And seeing the world as a mother for my children has instilled in me the will to create space for people who are most beautiful and brilliant. I need my words to wave crowds on years before my sons walk into these rooms, to prepare the others for their welcome. And your children just the same, assuming that the spirits of these are akin. If I am born again on my thirtieth, let it not be a surprise. They said don't wake love til it's time.