Some days I have to remind myself
That it is hunger, not grief
Gnawing at the pit of my stomach
That my head aches from forgetting
To grab that bottle of water
When I woke late
Not from the million memories
Made and unmade
Of my little girl
who never took a breath
Outside my body
Of her sweet uncle
whose breath was
Crushed from his body
Three months to the hour
After my baby was born
eternally sleeping
These days
are so much longer now
Like their hours unlived
Have been folded into mine
Phantom hours that
make the minutes
drag on and on
Make me want
Just a few more hours sleep
Because six or eight or
twelve or fourteen
Is never enough
Leaving me wishing
That I could live
Forever with them
In my dreams