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Poetic T May 2020
Cradle song woven upon
a mothers arms,
                        no tears,
      no cries.

Just mothers tears,
         cuddling her baby.

No  fret just stillness,
                        she sings
           her to peace...
Cjf Apr 2020
Hey ez. Just wanted to say, you would be 5 months now. Almost to 6 baby girl. Cousin Ellie just got to 7. Shaydens at 1. Liliana is at 8. You would’ve been right in between. Just perfectly spoiled rotten with love. We miss you. I do. Sometimes I feel so guilty that I don’t think of you often. But thinking of the could’ve and would’ve beens leaves an ache inside that hurts too much. I guess I’ve associated you with so much pain that I think of you when I’m feeling low. I’m happy for the most part. You know? Like.. things feel okay. I held shayden the other day remember? I dreamt of you that night and felt like I was holding you and I felt like that was a push from you to tell me that it was okay for my arms to hold a baby even if it’s not you. It’s just hard for me tho. To have to be awkward and laughed at and watched over as I hold a newborn when I should’ve been used to it by now. I should’ve been the one to be able to tell the best way to angle the head and even know how to burp them. I know others don’t mean to be insensitive it’s not their fault.. I’m the one who always shows them how strong I am and that im not still healing. Thanks to you. I don’t know some times wether to thank you or not because if you were here I wouldn’t have had to find out what I’m capable of. If you were here I wouldn’t have had to find out what being strong means. You showed me the purest love in the most simplistic way and I wish there was a way I could feel that again. Maybe the hurt inside me when I think of you is that love still just not so pure anymore since it’s marred with losing you. I know it’s bad that I don’t talk about you. But baby, it’s only been 5 months. How does anyone expect me to just be okay with it now? 5 months of you being alive would be you still being brand new. 5 months of you being dead means that I’m still holding on. 5 months of me trying to go back to normalcy. Staying with friends, going for drinks, laughing and making jokes. Some of it feels more fake than others. I don’t think you realize how much happier I would be with you here. I sometimes get a thought in my head that is terrible, but that I think is my way of coping because it isn’t how I really feel. You know? That maybe I wasn’t ready for you. Maybe I was too ill prepared. I mean come on look at us. I can barely make it by and there’s just two adults. No car. No home. No baby. And we’re still struggling. So sometimes I think, yes maybe it is better for you.. that way you won’t ever have to know how much this world really is just a climbing ladder and a lot of the times we’re at the bottom. Maybe sometimes it would be easier if you were here, maybe you would be motivation. Something to get us out of our hole we’re in. Or that I’m in.
I don’t know what’s right anymore. I wish you were here so I could just talk your little head off again. I miss those morning drives of just telling you what I had in store for us. Of complaining about nonsense and always losing track of what I was saying but actually feeling listened to for once. You made me feel so much peace just by talking to you. I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. Everyone has their own problems and me adding to theirs when my problems are easily fixable seems pointless. Idk. I just miss you. I’m sorry that I’m a bad mom. I didn’t deserve you but I thank you so much that you gave me you.
This is more of a letter than a poem. But I guess poetry is what we make it. Side note: It’s now been a year since we’ve lost her, these were just words I wrote to help the process.
Thia MK Dec 2019
He appears to meet all the throbbing needs of my heart
deep within my long lost desires
My pulsating veins pushing through for a fight
But still, I decided to start, to start that struggle
Only based on the fact that he is too perfect

Yeah, He is, but what about the thousand miles between?

Distance and time brings us to our knees at night
as we hold our hands up high
wishing for a better way to feel
hoping that somehow the universe will shrink
He carried my heart too perfectly

Yeah, He did, but what about the thousand miles between?

All these sweet words I use
Just to describe how in love I thought I was
With the idea of a flawless story, this would be
Or the perfect stillborn we continue to nurture
We held on to each other too strongly

Yeah, We did, but with the thousand miles between, its time to let go.
To the one that would never be...
Rae Feb 2019
blue eyes and blue skies
your white pillow lips
your spider leg eyelashes
and the soft, brown bruises that
tiptoe up my wrist

soft downy, warm skin
a tiny entity in the pale moonlight
purple and yellow
wet and slime and rawness
but empty, flutterless, cooling:
the bare nakedness we created
no longer exists

dribbling words
a tipsy house that leans to one side
gentle breeze and creamy clouds-
mashed potatoes to slather with butter or
the fluid that drips down my leg

asphalt, cold but burning
a right a left
a straight
and i stumble
press a hand to the leftover lump of my abdomen
and turn toward an empty, flickering highway
Warren Feb 2019
Her tiny little face,
So innocent and gentle,
So close to being free,
To being alive.
Perfect little fingers and perfect little toes,
My whole life through a moment in her eyes.
Too beautiful for me,
Too precious to let be,
A glimpse of what could be for me to know,
Now I know I can’t stay here,
Suddenly it’s all so clear,
She needs me,
I have no choice,
I have to go.
Silverflame Dec 2018
I bury this year's stillborn dreams
in the soil of despair, before the
new year begins with colorful
explosions embroidered in the sky.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Thoughts descend
in neon whites of infinity
to hit the keyboard as an avalanche of words
to leave thumb-prints of ingenuity.

Words become cadaverous,
impotent to birth them.
They leave stillborns
with pale yellow shadows!

An eerie pain numbs my senses.
I suffocate.
O, had I become the unuttered word!
Silverflame Aug 2018
The "us" in my head was just
a stillborn dream of mine.
But in another life, that dream
would live and breathe with us.
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