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A Child Sized Tomb
You’re whisked away by the lord’s dear hands
Far into the night, into the shadow’s land.
A muffled cry, never heard.
A grievous fate no mother deserves.
Open eyes staring above,
A body still, soul watches above.
No more babbles or shaky steps,
No more buying onesies or stuffed bears.
Only a small box, a tiny suite, and a tomb.
Many deem they’re safe in his arms,
You believe he stole the one thing you loved.
A loveless marriage torn apart,
A grieving mother barely holding together.
Her eyes rain rivers on her cheeks,
Her knees are stained with fresh dirt.
The smell of flowers fills the air,
The sound of sobs too much for the father to bear.
A note of regret, a song of such sorrow,
The mother wishes she didn’t have to face tomorrow.
A small casket, and survivors guilt.
The scars from the c-section not yet healed.
Her grief like the ocean,
Large and deep.
Her husband like salt,
Gone in her ocean waves.
He leaves without warning, her baby boy.
She stays without meaning, a childless mother.
Divorce papers follow a funeral invitation
The pen feels like bone in her hand
Tear filled eyes and shaky signatures,
A soundless sob when asked “any children involved?”
No because he took him.
No because he can no longer cry,
No because he can no longer breathe,
No because his heart stopped.
The mother screams that night.
Screaming at everything wrong in the world.
Her newly empty wine bottle was her only guest
The only one there to share her sorrow
To drown in the waves of grief
No baby
No partner
No marriage
No life
She drinks until she forgets
Over and over
Again and again
Her fingers are numb as her cries settle down.
Her mind is foggy as she looks into the empty nursery
She looks at the crib, bare and cold
She glanced at her wine glass, red and gleaming
She takes it down in one sip.
It was all too much
A slip of paper read his name.
2 Footprints in thick black paste
A death notice under the birth certificate.
A shattered picture frame capturing his blue eyes.
Blood and tears fall to the carpet
A mother’s blood spreading to a blanket
His blanket
The one that held him during his final moments,
A cloth that couldn’t save him from the hands of the lord.
A blanket now ruined,
The white stained red.
Regret piled in her body.
Shattered glass embedded into her hands.
The door is locked, her life is docked.
I wrote this thinking about my brother. Rise high, Andrew.