- heres a poem/writing i did and preformed on friday at my college for spoken words. -

My son will be calling me mommy a word of love and significance.

While Im so use to the person who helped me create this baby calling me bitch and every other word that wasnt sweet or wasnt my name.

My son will tell me he loves me all the time.

While the person who helped me create him only told me he loved me when he was drunk enough or high on xanax to admit it.

My son will need me.

While the only time his sperm donor needed me was to release his sexual frustration, to break me down, and to tell me no one will ever want me the way he does.

My son will look to me for comfort.

While the person who helped me create him looked to me for sex and a punching bag.

He may have your eyes, your nose, your lips, your hair but he will not have your mentality, your heart, your way of thinking.

He may have been created from toxicity, but he will not be raised in it. He will not be around you to see mistreatment of women. He will not learn to degrade.

You gave me this child. You gave my the strength to leave you by doing so. This baby is the most beautiful thing to come out of this toxic relationship and I thank you for that.