“What cute kids you have!”
Your benign comment rips open the stitches of my cancerous memory wounds
I could just eat them up
One by one, with a spork,
Feasting on their adorableness
Shoveling them down my lonely empty gullet
And filling my belly with happy.
Making myself plump with your joy.
What? Is that not the way it works?
Because that’s my first instinct.
I mean, after the one that screams
“I hate you.”
I hate the fact that you have the swollen belly
Of a rambunctious pregnant woman
Who downs chocolate sundaes like Tylenol.
Brimming with life while I sit robbed of that glow
I hate your pristine smile, happy lips,
Bright eyes looking toward whatever the
Future may be for you-
My future was ruined.
I hate how happy you are. What you expect is exactly what I was expecting. Expecting to hold someone closer to your heart than you ever could. Expecting to add one more to your Norman Rockwell scene, painting an entire future in your mind’s eye for a pre-life cookie cutter child baking in your oven.
The pitter patter of undercooked baby batter runs rampant through the empty halls of expecting in my broken hearts shattered memories of expecting
Do you know what loathing is?
It’s seeing your joy, and your offspring springing around and from you, dressed in envy-green jerseys set and ready to play the ultimate game of life, each identical, sporting their allegiance to team Family.
Images of your happy content and ignorantly smug face being boxed and beaten with the sorrow of accident flicker through my mind as I put you in my shoes for an unwanted macabre justice from the unintended unfuture of my own.
Jam it between your finger tips
And up your eyeballs and in your
I want you to know what it’s like
To loose everything- and maybe that way
You won’t flaunt your perfect life
And you’ll slow down and really,
On September 10th, we're having a burial ceremony for Chatham, since that was his due date. We're burying a rosebud and lighting candles, casting circle. . . Hopefully it'll be closure. We're also picking up a baby blanket and giving it to a baby born on the 10th as a way to commemorate him.