Baby Blues by Hope Haddad

White light,

buzzing from the ceiling

now finds itself 

humming in my head.

This mind-numbing

soul sucking

prison light.

My mother called

and told me

to keep a bright outlook on the future,

but I’m afraid

I may have lost my sight.

I celebrated my sixteenth birthday

with black and blue bags

under my eyes

and a stiff smile--

so unbelievably tired

and I still am.

I was born three months early,

in August

not November,

a baby born blue

instead of red.

That meant weeks in the NICU

With babies who were bigger 

and stronger too--

I weighed one pound instead of eight.

I thought I was ready.

Under a warm yellow light,

I’m sure that’s when I first understood,

I looked to the babies beside me and I 

knew--

I would never measure up,

not if I didn’t try twice as hard to.