My body is still birthing,
But nothing is to show.
The little life that was to be
Left my body days ago.
My body is still bleeding
Like a casualty took place,
And I mourn the ever-lingering loss
As I imagine a what-if face.
My body is still weeping
Even if no tears are cried.
Despite the plastered grit and grin,
My pain feels impossible to hide.
My body is still broken,
At least that's what I perceive.
What should have been your safest place,
Instead leaves me to grieve.
My body is still aching,
Shuddering, and unkind,
Leaving in place of your still life-
A heartbreak for the rest of mine.