She looked so defeated
Lying on that filthy stiff mattress
In a dingy room
With no furniture
Light or life
The walls were sticky with bleakness
The atmosphere reeked of poverty
Clutching her throbbing belly
Cradling nothingness
I prayed she would not cry
For I would not have been emotionally equipped
To handle such state of affairs
Face swollen, skin inflamed
Unbothered by her unkempt hair
A slight tremble in her voice
My heart sank and burned a hole in the floor
The sound of the small television
In the corner
Sliced the silence
My mouth was dry of words
If only I could shove my hand
Down my throat
To pluck the right words to say
Out of my core
Words of sympathy can be an insult
When nothing you say
Can lessen the hurt
I said nothing
When our eyes met I said all I had to say
Tacitly.
Inspired by someone I know very well whom I went to visit after she had a miscarriage.