My firework baby
Almost my firework baby.
One day late. The darkened streaks left smeared across the sky. The proof that something prodigious had just occurred.
You were tiny and fierce. Full of surprises. You left everyone in awe.
Captivated and devastated.
The show was over.
I was left to cleanup.
But no longer alone. I held a tremendous force of energy.
My almost everything. You consumed my entire sky with only corners left in the dark.
You were funny to a fault. Competitive to a disadvantage. Sweet to the moon and back.
You were the light I had never known existed. The colors I had never even dreamt of.
You grew so much larger than just my sky.
More captivated than devastated.
Your biggest fan. Sometimes your harshest critic.
Exhausted by your light.
Motivated by your brilliance.
Still my firework baby.
Full of sparks and combustive.
Brighter than anything in your horizon.
Louder than most people like.
More in awe than ever.
Trying every single day not to smother your gift or silence your sounds.
Learning to appreciate the noise.
Humbled by your show.
Happy (almost) birthday to my (almost) 8 year old firework baby.