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You’ll be ten years old come next month,
and it refuses to feel true.
The fluid melts more and more each year,
dissolving into your walls,
and soon it will be gone forever.

They left no scars when they went inside of me,
no incision marks or stitches.
So what do I do when the only physical reminder I have
is meant to disappear?

Perhaps all we’ll have is the thought of the future,
and the way you’ll swell up again,
and this time I won’t be able to escape it.
Perhaps dialysis is what will keep us together.

So what do I do?
Bake you a cake?
Drink so much cranberry juice
that you’ll be singing with excitement?
No one ever told me how this was supposed to feel.
How do you celebrate the birth of an organ?