Never

Sometimes a thing can be eating away at you, fraying you around the edges, making you uneven, and you don't quite realize it. At least not on a conscious level. Not until it compromises enough of your delicate and intricately woven emotional defense structure. And suddenly you find yourself bawling your eyes out as you drive down the road past fields and cows and tree rows. You wonder why you're falling apart over the loss of what you never even actually had. But there it is. Hitting you over the head like an acme anvil falling from the sky. You've tried to lock it away in its own sacred special corner of your heart all by itself. But it refuses to stay. It seeps out little by little, and colors every other part of your life and experience. You see things as they are, but you simultaneously see them as they might have been if only...  You're walking around with an invisible wound that refuses to heal, which is all the more painful for the fact that no one else appears to remember that you were ever wounded. And yet, you don't truly want it to heal because the pain is all that you really have left of it.

I never knew if you are a boy or a girl.

Never knew if you have straight hair or curls.

I never got to rock you to sleep.

Never brought you home to keep.

I never held you in my arms.

Never fell captive to your charms.

I never kissed your tiny head.

Never laid you in your bed.

I never heard your precious laugh.

Never gave you your first bath.

I never named you.

I never even met you.

But I want you to know that I will never forget you.