I watched a woman
throw her baby
out the second-story window
of a burning building—
into the arms of strangers below.
And you know,
when she saw him land
safely in those arms,
she was grateful.
Even if she died,
he would live.
I cried at this video I saw—
not for the woman or the baby,
but selfishly for myself,
who has never known a love
where I'd choose their life over mine,
just the kind where they'd choose mine
over theirs.
If I were a decent person,
I’d cry for all the lovers
who dropped me
into the safety
over the years—
and the ones I've yet to meet,
already practicing
their sweet release of me
before they turn to the flames.
What am I even trying to say?
The news anchor said:
Moments later, the mother climbed down
a sheet tied to a bedpost
and fell into the same strangers’ arms.
She reunited with her baby
before the firetruck even arrived.
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