21

21 ... she'd be 21 soon, my Angel, my baby, my daughter.

she was born prematurely... so tiny, so frail. But so loved & so wanted by me.

my whole childhood I fantasised about having a daughter.

it wasn't meant to be

my dreams are not meant to be

i'm not supposed to be happy or have an ever after

i wonder so much about my beautiful girl, who she'd  be, what she'd think of me

she died in my arms on the longest & worst day of my life 12 hours plus of watching her go. With every little breath she struggled to take wanting her to slip away, to be free of the pain, get with every little breath wanting her to breathe on to stay, to live, to be my girl.

21 ... she's nearly 21 ... I miss her so, I love her so ... my heart broke when she died ... I've been lost ever since, broken, alone