I want you, yet I can't have you. A little mini me. The cries of joy I hear in my sleep. The wails of sadness, the cut I mend. A little me. An Ode to the Littles. My age is the reason I am deprived of you. I'm too young, to little and brittle to care for another human. Yet when I sit with one of you, I want to hold you forever. Small hands, feet; an acquired thing that I so despretely need. It pains me when I cannot have one. But let it be. An Ode to the Littles.
