Parental

It began to rain

The moment I told myself

How much of a terrible parent I'd be

Because for years I struggled 

To parent myself.

I feel completely undeserving

To bask in the sunrays of a baby's smile 

Because who am I to trust myself? 

What if I self destruct?

Or sink my way into

The dark, crevices of post partum depression?

What if I become the thing I fear?

Anger.

Because growing up I felt its whiplash 

And like the smell of cigarettes 

It awakens an urge to return to what's familiar? 

What if I'm not done healing?

And the scars on my arms, now invisible, begin to show up on my child's heart?

What if I were to cause that harm?

Unintentionally dulling the lights in their eyes?

Turning them void

Because of me being too weak to block

The cascading stones from the world;

My shield breaking under the duress.

What if I loose my mind and break myself? 

Who would they call mom and protector?

I wish I could say that none of this will happen

But I love too much 

To risk giving them too little.

So I don't pursue that path for now.

In the hopes that someday,

I can pour into them

So that their joy comes from me

And not something that has to be acquired 

By them later 

Because I hurt them.