Today I have empty arms.
For a brief time they were full.
I never knew they were empty before they were filled.
Now I notice the hole constantly.
A part of me has been missing.
I do not need that piece to survive, though.
I just need to acknowledge the loss.
For if I lived as though I had never held on,
How could I let go?
I released a piece of me, willingly...
Yet, how is that possible?
I believed, attached to myself,
That part could not reach its potential.
I had to convince myself
That even though the piece will be stronger separate from me,
I could be stronger, too.
But I am struggling.
I am clutching that promise of becoming whole again.
Yet as I feel the wind through my empty arms,
I acknowledge there is a wound there.
Letting the air get to it often causes a sting.
It did gradually begin to heal.
Some days it got infected and took days to fight back and recover.
Others, I barely noticed the cut.
It has not yet completed the healing process...
And when it is healed, there will remain a scar.
Although I know I will never be the same without that piece,
I am grateful for the scar.
It will remind me that the pain and tingling of scar tissue are valid.
It will convince me that I am not insane,
I am simply a mother
With empty arms.
~ Vivienne Smith, 8-17-03
Copyright © 2003 Vivienne Smith
