You have been mine from the moment I held my Baby Tender Love in the back of  Mrs. Womble’s kindergarten room.

You were alive before you were born, a little wish from the whispers of a five-year-old who had no idea what she was asking for, but knew you were exactly what she wanted one day.

Mine

You have always been mine.

I sang your song before I knew you.

I loved your voice before it was formed.

I held your hand in mine every single time I dreamed.

I waited for you.

Now you are mine and I have to let you go one day.

You are my always, my forever, my breath, the clock by which I start each day and end each night.

You are the reason nothing else and everything matters.

I never knew that someone else’s tears could drown me.

With you I  feel the edges of existence.

With you I walk on tightropes of hope.

With you I hear the world turn.

I have thunder in my veins when you need me.

My feet are winged when you call.

I am your thread from place to place.

I am because you made me.

I saw you and nothing else remained.

It was always you.