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80 · Jan 2017
Stillborn
Devyn Cathro Jan 2017
Sitting here, I hold you. My
Tiny, frail child.
I feel my heart race, and my
Lungs fill with air. But, my love, I
Listen. I listen for you. Your heart will never
Beat again. The lungs that will never breathe.
Onyx hair atop your head, my cheeks are red.
Red with anger, with grief, knowing I will
Never bring you home.

— The End —