You began on a summer day, hot and breathless, fire and passion. I loved him far more than he pretended to care. When I looked into his eyes, my world evaporated. His lust consumed me. I confused it with love.

For him, the flame burned briefly, like a shooting star, before I faded away forgotten. By the time I discovered you, I was alone, afraid, a child left to answer an adult question.

Nine months you were my constant companion, reminding me of innocence lost. With every kick, I told myself you belonged to someone else. With every drip from my laden breasts, I shed a tear.

You were born in the spring amid fragrant flowers and regrets. I signed the papers and said goodbye to you. Your loss left a fissure, my heart unrepairable. I wanted to hold you, but I knew I wouldn’t let you go. Perfect toes someone else would paint. Blonde hair someone else would braid.

I love you to this day, even though I don’t know you. You will always be a part of me, a dent on my soul, a decision I regret I had to make. Lost to me.