No one will ever love you
the way your mother does.
If they do,
I’ll have to remind them
that just because i never had a real mother
doesn’t mean that you don’t.
I doubt anyone will ever recognize
the way you always rise with the sun
(even on Saturday morning)
or how your taste in ‘noms’
varies with the wind.
Will your independence,
your stubbornness
drive them as crazy as it does me?
Will they appreciate
how you become a messier eater
with every year older you get?
No one will ever love you the way your mother does,
but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look
for someone to share your heart with.
For someone who exists in your smile
and dies in pleasure when they look in your eyes.
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