The marks
that cover
the Place
that used to be
your Home . . .

Are by far,
the scars
that affect me the most.

Purse your lips,
I have a gift,
Open wide and savor sips,
A hurried propagation slips,
Through the gaps,
Between your hips

Describe the rhythm,
By your frown,
Moving face to face,
And down a path of absolution,
Keeping pace with dead-eyed dreams,
Forming tracks amongst contusions

Now it breathes a solemn sigh,
Merely an affront to cry,
Senselessly for all the world,
Out it shies, and "it's a girl",
Hide...

He has always been Musical.
From the minute I heard his
Perfect
  Fast
    Rhythmic
      Heartbeat
I knew he’d inherit
My musicality.

He has always been active.
From the moment I felt him
   Flutter
The instant I felt him
    Kick
The second I felt him
      Sway
My entire stomach
I knew he’d inherit
My strength.

I have always loved him.
Since the evening I learned
He was here
He was  with me
He was      Part of me
I knew I’d been given
A gift.

My sister said she saw you
not long after we broke up
she said
“She’s…not been doing so well”
And the way her pause felt
coming from someone who
is never lost for words
Told me everything I didn't want to know
about the shortcuts and the destinations they lead to
I know I have no right
To the answers of questions never asked
I just wish you had told me.
Wish you had said something.
I can understand why you didnt though.
How this must have ground your teeth down on the pavement,
As your tongue walked every excuse home you could think of.

I wonder how you first found out
if it was with a distaste for the bitter black coffee you loved
Or in a yearning for porridge again
honey sweetened and spiced by cinnamon
Oats rich on your grieving, no appetite tongue

I wonder if
When all was said and done
You starved yourself like you said you never would
To have your body wax concave
Instead of convex as if to reflect
The parabolic curve of pain pinched waist,
Hourglass carelessness
Answers to the equation of us.

I wonder if your resolve hit as hard as the realisation did,
Or if you anaesthetized yourself to the question,
The way you said you would never drink your pain away again.
And I wonder if had known sooner
if there would have been any room in that excuse for me too.
 
When you found, did you pat your stomach absentmindedly
Or did you just brush it aside?
Did you name it burden, or curse, or something to take care of, or did you not name it anything.
But simply called it goodbye?

If it had been a girl, I would call it serendipity
Its got a nice cadence to it
and I think that something
equal parts ****** up us
could grow into a name like that.
If a boy, then Bump, or Oops or Accident after his father and his ignorance

Had I the choice I wouldnt wish it anyone else

So I know I shouldn’t name possibilities just to grieve them,
But I only just found out the cost of shoebox coffins
And the unworn boots that fill them.
Maybe I am attributing too much weight to a collection of cells not much bigger than a fist
But I know the weight of that in my stomach,
So I can’t imagine how the absence of it felt in yours.

I do believe in choice,
And I won't pretend I have any idea
The choices you must have gone through
Nor will I compare asking only promises of me
To requiring 40 weeks of you
 
I just never got asked what my decision would have been
And I wish it would have mattered too

If you need to – I still want to talk
I have a cup of tea waiting
Grown cold from being 3 months too late
Just like we were.

I did not know if I should be
Happy
Or sad.
You were talking about an ultrasound, and that he told you to get an abortion.
You were 18 still in high school.
I have never seen you more broken,
Or distressed.
I wanted so bad to be there for you,
But
What do you say to someone when they had to give up their baby?
I didn’t know what you were feeling.
I don’t know what you were feeling.
All I know is that
The day you told me, I knew that I would fight for your happiness until forever ends.

isn't it ironic
that a body
that was once
capable of
creating life

can also manage
to destroy it