My Son is...a prayer.

My son is learning his abc's. he is also teaching me mine. i am scared alot, all the time actually. i cry for no reason at all, and shake too. Because, i know what the world is capable of, and what i have done in my past, and even what i do now to survive i'm sorry, so unrepairably ashamed. But alive, and brave, and patient. My son can pee and poop in the toilet now, and he lets us all know that with a loud SHOUT! i pray he will be proud of himself his entire life and be outspoken. Because, when i was younger i was silent and i was severely taken advantage of for no other reason than being there. Because i was, he isn't. My son can sleep by himself with no light on. That tells me he feels safe Than why don't i? But i know that answer don't i. i can no longer hate myself, it stops now. Miracles can happen, just let them. here's another little secret. i collect love and beauty to surround myself with to hide my fear and self-obsessing guilt. my son can pick his nose and not feel guilty i thank god for that without even believing in one. My son laughs without bias, or being tickled isn't life a strange and funny thing in august i hope to be blessed with a daughter no matter what, i will be there ready and willing to do whatever it takes Whether i find god in my head now in my sons eyes tomorrow or when i'm dead in outerspace i will remain true to all of my creations that's a promise i can keep.