Andrew Kelly Mar 20

I turned ten two days ago.
You were born today,
Yet you will never draw your first breath.

Your lips,
Inherited the reddest hue of cardinal feathers.
Your skin,
Pale and soft like fresh Pennsylvania snow.

I never knew what your eyes looked like,
They never opened.
Infinite iris colors
That will never be discovered.

When I held you in my arms,
The guiding hand of God drifted away.
I gave the coldest of shoulders I suppose,
Dust drifting in the air conditioned delivery room.

I looked outside the hospital window.
The dead leaves fluttered in the bitter wind,
Time stood still that day,
For me, just a little kid.

LCM Feb 25

What I would have done,
For you.

A quiet knocking on the door,
A quiet rapping through the floor
A quiet voice sweet and soft
Growing louder, hard to ignore.

I hide under the sheets,
Terror fleeting,
Numb and unprepared,
Even as I know I must,
I twist and turn and-
I can’t hold back
My life will change

I tried to close the door,
To stifle that tapping under that floor-
I guarded my heart
But walls and sheets are closing fast
None of this safety can last

I know I must turn
So many moments pushing through
My entire future, fading past
I know what I must do,
I must go with you.

I know what we will be
I will change for you
I cannot be free
It will never again just be me
I would do anything to protect you
Change my life to be with you

But as I reach-
As I tell you what I will do
What this love is that I feel for you

Suddenly jaded, crushed and worn
Bearing under that deep, rank well of guilt
You are pulled away
Screaming and tearing

A darkening wave of blood- and so many tears
Every single one of my worst fears
Sad, sick and twisted turn of fate
I wasn’t ready for you
And now I’m much, much too late.

They tell me I couldn’t have stopped it,
I couldn’t have protected you.
“I need to feel in order to heal”
But there is no knocking on the door,
No quiet rapping through the floor.
Nothing…. no quiet voice,
                      No one is asking anymore.

My mommy said I shouldn’t eat the watermelon seeds, that it would hurt if they made a home of my tummy. She’s a little loopy, my mama, and I don’t believe her sometimes, so I ate the seed and it tasted really boring. I swallowed the seed whole and nothing happened, mama.

My mom told me not to eat the watermelon seeds, that, in a few weeks, a small black tear drop floating in my body would hurt once it found a home in my belly. If it claimed my gut, it would throw out the food I tried to eat, greedy of the space, growing and swelling inside me until the button of my worn jeans would no longer snapped shut. She’s a little dramatic, my mom. I ignored fruit-flies swarming the chewed rind left on the counter, its sickly sweet scent swallowing the space of my small apartment.

My mother warned me never to ingest the seeds of a watermelon, that this little black tear drop once wedged into the sweet sponge of the fruit would one day decide the house it made of my torso was no longer its home. It tore its way from my body, strangled the sides of my diaphragm, round after round of reverberating contractions bent me over until the sweet clear liquid flowed from me. Then came the melon, my melon, that once found a home in my body – falling from me in clumps of sickly sweet spongey mush through shaking fingers into an unsuspecting porcelain bowl.
                             She was right, it did hurt.

NARMONSEA Jan 12

Is it strange?
That a thump,
A sound
In regular motion
Within the confines of your body
Would bring such happiness
To your everyday life?

Does it not
Give you a smile?

Every experience is shared,
All feelings connected,
The warmth of a newborn,
Like the glow of sunlight:
Precious.

That in due time,
The sudden loss of this beat,
Before he starts his dance,
His first step,
The smallest but greatest,
Would have faded,
Into oblivion.

You would drown in despair,
At the loss of your loved one.
A half-hearted living,
Empty at the core.
All purposes, lost, to
The wound on your soul
As Time passes by you.

Yet we not have to worry,
For he will enter the gates,
Amongst a grand parade.
The heavens will watch his dance.
A standing ovation awaits, and
He would merrily dance again.

Your loss is Heaven's gain.

Dedicated to someone going through a hard time right now. My condolences, and stay strong. You will become greater in due time.

I reached out and held your hand.
"Mom...I'm pregnant"
I felt your grip loosen,
and I was afraid to meet your eyes,
wide with shock, with tears glistened.

You stood across from me,
arms folded, ready for my big news.
"Dad...I'm pregnant"
Your gaze fell and you wouldn't speak.
We both knew it was too soon.

"Congratulations, Miss McNabb.
You're pregnant!"
I know it's true and yet it seems so unreal.
Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn.
I don't know how to feel.
Excited of course,
the obvious choice.
But also scared, and maybe paranoid.
My little Oliver Sparrow never made it
out of the womb-
taken too soon.
I tried to forget the pain
but pain is much too real to be waived.

There is a baby inside of me.
I have seen it on the black and white screen.
I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled,
when I saw its little hiccups and kicks,
the way it seemed to dance inside.
I believe in my baby, I can't resist.
My baby is strong, that much I know,
just from seeing its dance-
almost like a restlessness to be free.
My baby is loved-
more loved than I could ever hope to be,
and yet I wish I had more, more, more love to give.

My baby is here, and real,
and so is my desire to be the best mommy.

Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn

Breeze Sep 2016

Two pink lines, we knew it was true
Sooner or later we would meet you
We knew it would happen you even sent clues
So happy we made phone calls to share the great news

Suddenly Mommy was in pain
saw bleeding Daddy said something was strange
Praying together hoping nothing is wrong
tears in my eyes trying to stay strong

Up on the screen your sister was present
you weren't there you were sent back to heaven,
so confused trying to understand why
I had one baby and the other didn't survive..

As quickly as your life started
it ended, at only 9 weeks.
I was so ready, we were so close
so small, no eye could see
So early, yet you still meant so much to me

I long to know what you looked like,
and hold you in my arms
Loving you from a distance
your still our  good luck charm.

Never will I have the chance to kiss your sweet lips
or carry your loving body around on my hip.
Your mine and always will be
but oh I long to touch the baby I will never see..

Having you with me
for a short time is still such a gift
you will forever be my favorite "what if".

I wrote this in memory of the baby that I lost. it will forever be my favorite what if... I was pregnant with twins and on January 1, 2013 at 1:35am I lost my baby. I will never forget you. Mommy loves you, forever and always. My angel. <3
Carolyne McNabb Aug 2016

I hurt myself today...
Johnny Cash, he summed it up so well.
I hurt myself today
to see if I can still feel
anything other than sadness when
I fail.

What have I become?
Failure.
Everywhere, everything I do turns to ash.
I hurt myself today, my son.
You can ask Johnny Cash yourself up there
in heaven where you are.

I still think about the day I lost you.
Waking up in a pool of blood,
it wasn't long before I realized.
Then the tears began
and reason ended too.
It was a miscarriage, my son.

You were my second chance.
Now you've been ripped away from me.
What do I have left? Where can I stand?

I hurt myself today.
Missing you is all I feel.
Johnny Cash said it all,
And knew pain all too well.

It hurts so much to live
without my baby here.
Please forgive...
Please forgive me but
I have to let you go.
It's the only way I can survive.
I miss you, I need you.
But I have to live for you too.

I hurt myself today,
but I'm going to get better, baby,
I promise you that.
Sleep sweetly, my love,
and I'll see you again someday.

       Love,
       Mommy

Rest in peace, Oliver Sparrow.
Sleep sweetly, baby.

Here is a story from my past
that very few know.
It's a story of a life that didn't last,
yet for which never made whole.

I had met and fell in love
with a guy at the dawn
of the summer of 1992.
As the school year ebbed to its nigh,
this everyone knew.

My first love, I'll call him Blue.
He was my first for feeling love...
We made magical moments at 16
that many lovers never do.

This is a tale, very personal to unfold.
Truly, the beauty and brevity of
this  pair's young endearing love,
a foreboding future too soon foretold.

But an aching story, nevertheless,
sung now of seemingly an ancient time,
of two romantic, innocent souls
whose love made rhythm rhyme,
who became forever changed by bold
acts of love, knowledge you'll soon behold.

Forever were we intertwined
in a beautiful love knot, waxed in time.
Our hearts were reeling
Bursting and blooming with feeling...

For this love, we tried and cried,
not  ever was it once denied,
though we both unwillingly knew
that this was a first of many or a few.

Once upon bearing our attraction
in the most intimate way,
unbeknownst to us,
when our relationship at dusk,
there was a living part of us,
within the womb of my flesh
making cold cheeks rosy blush.

I grieved you as passionately
as I continued to love you
in the time that stood still.
Neglecting myself along with my health
for you, my treasure,
I thought was my only wealth,
my only pleasure.

One day after a month or two of
not eating and feeling blue,
I doubled over,
and I sank
into a pool of blood,
my toilet soon drank.

We lost the last piece of us,
the one we never knew.
This precious life, like
our love, flushed fast.

Leaving me empty,
confused, and even more
without you.

The saddest part is I never
had a chance to share to you
the ending to our love story.
Not because it is one of gory
or contains no glory.

I didn't know if it was really true.

K.R.Dalton
6-11-16 (C)

When I was 16, I'm pretty sure I had a miscarriage. I remember it well, and it's always haunted me that I never shared it with my first love, the one I call Blue.

Thanks for reading. :)
Pauline Russell May 2016

Every human life is ment to change us
Rearrange us
Come into our hearts and remake us

They called you unviable
Not saveable
To come into our arms you where unable

But you where already in our heart
Right from the start
You in our lifes will always remain apart

Not even six weeks in the womb
Gone way to soon
In our arms you maybe absent, but in our hearts and memories there will always be room

My precious little peanut

Aoife Apr 2016

he had a dream
where she slept in his lungs,
cleared the air and breathed his blood.

he made a universe
of stars made of her
they had her name and they breathed life.

he loved her
because he thought it meant
loving himself
but he should've known that
two explosions, when finished,
eventually result
in darkness.

he thought the universe was heavy,
yet he carried her to bed every night
for a week and a half
while she battled her tears
over “what if?”
and he would put her to sleep
with gentle cradling and soft whispering
because he knew stars needed to sleep too.

he made flowers grow
in her body,
he let their stems wrap tightly
around her ribs and hold her together,
and he was scared of the darkness,
but he'd come to love the eerie glow
of the moonlight.
his fingers were drowned
in the outpouring of her agony,
and they were fixed to her cheeks
like constellations in the sky.
the person she used to be
was now a faint ghost,
etched into his memory,
but it was how he kept her alive.

the things he thought about most
were the things he talked about least
often times,
the sounds of their children's laughter
stained the fibres of his mind,
but he couldn't recall those sounds,
for they had been replaced
by his wife's shaky breaths
and painful cries.

he had a dream
where she slept in his lungs.
perhaps that was where she should be,
for maybe life can begin to grow again
and wrap tightly around her ribs
and possibly, maybe, hopefully,
hold her together.

he wished the flowers good luck,
because even gravity
couldn't bind the universe.

• written for two people in a story I am ecstatic to tell.
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