Late night poem...

Becoming a mother


1.
Up all night, itchy and pregnant,
But I haven’t met the baby yet
so it isn’t there. I have met
the night, which won’t go away.
It is there and there and there too.


2.
Good is about heaven. Kind is
about others. Nice is about fear.
I’m not honestly invested in
any of the three, but I am
invested and I am honest.


3.
I’m thinking. It’s something
to walk away from passion.
Something to give up the ghost.
Learning to be a person, quiet—
and maybe I’m not made for this.


4.
I am not made for this, but I am
made. The bed is not. Restless
covers wouldn’t lie. I have the night
sitting on my shoulder. I have a lump
in my gut. I have the resources to turn—


5.
I have to turn all of this over. I have
until morning. I’m still a person.
I’m still itchy. There are things
you can’t fix. There are things—
actual things. They take up space.


6.
The baby is not quite a baby, but
it is actual. The night and the itching
might end in sleep, if I could—
Nothing matters now. Because
tomorrow. Because I said so.