Skin To Skin

I was starving, I needed fed.

Bread crumbs you threw,

I picked up the pieces.

That led to you:

I followed the trail,

I beat the odds,

I stepped misfortune. 

Not battling demons, 

I battled angels.

Miles, yards, feet, and inches.

Scrapped, Slapped, beaten and bruised.

Skin to skin; 

not in the end. 

Mirrors daddy watches, 

the only way to see. 

Maybe in the end, 

it’s not you it’s me.