That
one day called me mummy-
the feeling of life inside of me
when I was still a teen
a baby having a baby.
I accidentally nearly drowned my baby whilst giving him a bath-
life's simplest task was nearly my baby's last-
trial and error as I came to know better
learning the life of a teenage mother.
My
breast, still undeveloped, now filled with milk,
skin soft as silk
I chose to read -
for every antenatal class I was late-
the only one I attended was high stake.
I learned the power of breath,
death was near in my despair-
no cheers, but the sounds of people moving their chairs.
Tiger claws over my once smooth tummy,
the after-marks of becoming a mummy
as the baby grew bigger inside of me.
Swollen feet, a new way to eat, no longer in the mood to meet and greet-
the baby's tears blew my mind,
a little ball of sunshine labelled mine for a life time.
The responsibility of having to name,
a
symbol that this was no game.
I was never ashamed and held my head high-
unfamiliar footsteps, followed by emotional threats, a walk I would live to
never forget
Simone
King started writing poetry and short stories/films in 2011. She writes about
her truth and the many questions that plague her mind.
