Thoughts of a Weathered Mind

Dearest Almost

I sit here and I morn your loss little one.

The life that never got to be

The little kicks that never came

The hands never to be held

I feel all the what if's come crashing down around me

As if had I breathed differently you'd be mine to hold

All the possibilities never to be seen

All the first I will never see

Hope is like a drug

The highs almost euphoric

It pulls you through the lows

It makes you numb to the hits one after another

But when it's gone...

The very ground beneath you crumbles

Bringing you to your knees as every bruise stings to life...

You were so small almost not there at all

But I knew when I saw you hope had left

In her place was numbness

It can't be real

The words swirled through my head

As if repeating them would force back the clock and make the world right again

I close my eyes and dream...

That those little kicks would still come

That one day I'd feel your foot in my ribs as you practiced for the outside world

That I would get to feel the tiny hiccups deep within me as you grew

That id hold you and see your eyes look at me your first moments in this world

Little hand clasped so strongly to me finger as if it could pull you from my dreams and make it real.

My dearest almost baby
You never got the chance to be
To live and morn

This pain feels as if I morn twice
Once for me and once for you

Because though you didn't make it in my womb
You will always be held in my heart