And Adptee Poem / Song / Gibberish

 Trigger warning: adoption trauma.

I want to preface this with a few orders of business:

1. Yes, I am safe. These words came to me and I couldn't ge tthem out of my head so I wrote them down.

2. I consider my parents my parents. As in, my TECHNICALLY SPEAKING adoptive parents are and have always will be my parents. Mom, dad, mommy, daddy, moozie, daggles, etc. But in the context of this poem / these lyrics / whatever we are calling it at this point is in reference to TECHNICALLY SPEAKING my biological parents.

 3. I love my family and parents and this is not trying to diminish what they have done for me and the life I got to live because of them.

4. The purpose of this is to be really open and raw about what it can feel like to be an adoptee.

5. The inspiration for this was and is the fact that despite what I am told by  LITERALLY ANYONE, I find it fundamentally hard to believe I am a lovable person worth "hanging around" for when during such a formative time in my development, there was little to know stability.

 I oddly have a melody in my head, but right now all I really have is just a collection of words.

 Furthermore, I really hope this does the following: (1) resonate with fellow adoptees who are struggling (2) help people understand how damaging it is to flippantly tell someone to "just adopt".

 Healing is slow and it isn't always pretty. But, we have to start somewhere. For me, openly asking these questions to the universe is oddly cathartic.  

Daddy, why did you leave me?

Mommy, why couldn’t you stay?

I know I was too young to remember,

But my heart knew you both went away.

 

Alone and afraid, no reassurance

Strange faces come in and strangers go out

I don’t know how it’s true, but I still know it’s not you

Holding me here in your arms.

 

And in those moments, I died on the inside,

Steadfastly heartbroken and I didn’t even know.

 

So I question each day if I’m enough

Because in the beginning I didn’t know love.

I ask myself daily what else I can do

To prevent from losing more people like you

 

Daddy, what did I do wrong?

Mommy, what could I have done?

I know as a baby the answer is maybe

You were just a little too young.

 

I want to make sense of it

Untangle this web

But the aching inside my bones

Fills me with dread

I want to ask questions, but they multiply instead

Even if I hsd the answers, what difference does it make? It doesn’t lessen the soul that it takes

 

Daddy, why did you leave me?

Mommy, why couldn’t you stay?

It’s not going to matter how old I am,

I’ll still ask this every day.

K