I fall in your arms
like a dream, infant.
You caress me
like a child, stillborn.-
But in your eyes
I feel the scratches
I feel the touch
and the love that was torn.-
Not everything I write
deserves to be alive or thrive.
Sometimes,
the soul departs too quickly
to breathe life into it.
Yet, it's destined to come out
like a still born child anyway.-
I held you close to my chest
For what seemed like forever.
He had me in his arms
I drenched his shirt
"You didn't even bid me goodbye"I complained
"He doesn't even know how to speak"he consoled.
-
He wanted a baby girl
She wanted a baby boy
The stillborn killed their dream-
Everyone looked at the stillborn baby lying on the table, surprised by the bite marks covering its body.
The mother's scream reminded the doctors that they're delivering twins.-
She sold the toys she bought for
the child in her womb.
He was stillborn.-
You made our love an acronym for a much wider scaled emotion.
Loss, so profound, in it's harrowing abyss, the soul's destitution
wallows in lack.
Overtures of sorrowful cries, composed disharmony of what
we left unsaid.
Vacant dreams of being together, breaths that dissolve in
sighs and gasps.
Eternal missing of what isn't, what could have been born
but somehow, slowly
prematurely died instead.
-