My life started in your womb. 
Nestled in the warmth 
of your protective cocoon. 
Likely the last true protection I’ve known. 

My entrance into the world marked 
by relinquishment, 
by separation,
by half-truths. 

My adoption story began
with your choice and 
a case number: 85-359/HJJ.
Identity simplified 
by a series of numbers and letters.

My adoption story broke
with severed ties 
to my adoptive family. 
I was chosen as an infant
without your full understanding.
I do not choose you now
that I have my own.
Eyes wide open. 

I’m counting all of the losses,
of which there are many. 
I’ve had to lose much
to find some versions of myself. 
Or were they stolen from me? 
Always searching. 

85-359/HJJ with an ellipse and an arrow 
is tattooed on my body 
as a reminder, 
of what I’ve lost,
of what I’ve gained. 
Identity complicated by adoption.

Does love require sacrifice? 
Maybe so.
Your love did. 
Mine did too. 

No matter what,
it always comes 
back 
to you.