kin

How do we sever the umbilical cord that flowed with love, strength and guidance? Does joy and pain come hand in hand? But we have grown too heavy for you to lug us along now, take the blade and make the cut, once. You know we still bear your name, our blood stream fused with your bosom's feed. I hope and pray, someday, we'll meet again, and greet not with sharp words and dagger stares. Will absence make our hearts grow fonder?