I held him. God, I held him. I memorized the shape of him Before the world could steal it back. His skin was warm for just a moment, Like he knew he couldn’t stay— Like he was trying to tell me He loved me Before he slipped away. And I swear the room stopped breathing When I whispered him my name… My boy, My blood, My tiny heartbeat gone the same. People speak of mercy Like they’ve ever felt this ache. Like their arms have ever carried Something love can’t fucking save. And I held him. I felt the weight of him— Too light, too still, too soon. He had his father’s hands, And they were perfect, Even if the world made no room. He should’ve grown into those fingers, He should’ve reached for both of ours— But all I got was one soft moment And a lifetime full of scars. If love is all I have of him, Then love is all I bleed— I held him, And that truth Is all the proof I’ll ever need. I rocked him like he’d wake up, Like he’d open up his eyes. I prayed to anything that listened, Begging time to compromise. I kissed his tiny forehead And begged the universe to stay— But grief arrived like winter In the middle of a summer day. And everyone moved too gently, Like I’d crack beneath their breath— But they didn’t feel him fading In my arms, Against my chest. 🔥 Chorus – harder, angrier, louder Because I held him. I felt the weight of him— And it haunts me when I sleep. He had his father’s hands, And I saw futures I will never get to keep. He should’ve wrapped them ‘round my finger, He should’ve cried, He should’ve screamed— But instead I’m left with empty rooms And love I cannot redeem. If pain is what remains of him, Then pain is what I keep— I held him, And that moment Cut the world down to its knees. 🌑 Bridge – whispered, furious prayer Don’t you dare say “it’s better now.” Don’t you dare say “he’s in a place of peace.” My arms are still aching from the weight of him, And that ache doesn’t fucking leave. I’ll rage until I soften, I’ll soften ‘til I break— A mother isn’t built to bury The life she didn’t get to make. 🔥 Final Chorus – grief as fury, grief as love I held him. I carry the weight of him— In my bones, in my breath, in my skin. He had his father’s hands, And for one impossible moment, They were warm within my hands again. He should’ve stayed, He should’ve lived, He should’ve ruined us with joy— But instead I’m left a battlefield Where once there was my boy. If love is all that’s left of him, Then love is what I am— A mother forged in fire By the son I couldn’t save But held As long as I damned well can.
