two broken hearts

This it the first in a series of poems. Please read the Introduction to this series here first  as several of these contain content which may be triggering for some readers and all of them are deeply personal and traumatic. Or maybe don’t read this series at all, it’s gritty and grief-filled and might ruin your day.

two broken hearts                                              August 18, 2017
fuck you, seven stages
grief doesn’t fit in the luggage rack
grief is the tide in a storm
and the rage of hell
it is smashing glass
and shards in every pore

i have this blanket i got for you
a little green square
to wrap you snug as my sweet pea
i fear to find it
for my tears will dissolve it in my arms
the empty arms
where you
should be

i wanted you to be the baby
i did right
the one to make up for my mistakes
i’m sorry
i was the wrong
mother for you

perhaps in my heart
i knew all along
i was selfish to want you
too selfish to keep you

how to find words
for the grief
the guilt
of motherhood?

may god have mercy on you, my daughter
and me
god have mercy on me
forgive me, daughter
for i could not be
your mother
forgive me
my womb
that couldn’t hold you
and my weak heart
that couldn’t feed you
and forgive me
for giving you a daddy
who broke our hearts
i can’t tell you
that he meant well

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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1 Response to two broken hearts

  1. Pingback: Everywhere but Here and an Introduction by way of Explanation | the liminal life of m

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