I want to know why.

I want to know why she was forced to leave.

and why he had to die as not even an infant, that could get wrapped up in a white silky blanket and be buried next to strangers and not her momma and father.

and why my eyes are green and yours are brown and hers weren’t lucky enough to have been a beautiful swirl of hazel forests.

and why her nails were never painted the color of tulips.

and why your nails are ragged and ******.

and why the least expensive things in life are the ugliest and the hardest and the worst.

and why your feet smell like cheese, and your breath reeks of ******.

and why I never got to cradle my miracle.

and why I hate you

since
it was
what was best.

why do I love her, even though she doesn’t exist?

why do I cry on my birthday?