Words Are Useless
The days go slow as the minutes embrace my loneliness. I am nothing but a mother yearning for redemption from the loss of her own precious baby girl. Believe me when I say, WORDS ARE USELESS and as I sit and write nothing makes sense.
My verses speak j u m b l e and my rhymes are confused. I kept journals during my pregnancy. Pages upon pages of poems and letters written for her to read when she was much older. Now they mean nothing. I may have to burn them as they remind me of my loss. There will never be another sweet Rosie Marie. I will N E V E R forget how her body was already growing
s t i f f after an hour of coming into this heartless world.
HER TINY COLD FINGERS LOCKED IN A TOMB...
ALMOST A YEAR SINCE SHE WAS IN MY WOMB.
my baby d e c a y e d ~
alone in a grave too small
for God to hear her
I’ve ran back and forth through my pregnancy. What did I do to cause a
s t i l l b i r t h ? Did I do something so wrong that God would allow my sweet Rosie to be born lifeless W I T H O U T a heartbeat? I knew the second I had blood pouring down my legs something was wrong. She was so small at only twenty-nine weeks old. Her eyes open, but her body cold as I held her for the first time and L A S T time. Mothers are special, you know? They are born to give birth to babies and I was born to snuggle with her, if even for a few hours. I saw the clock…. tick, tock, tick, tock. They said I could have all the time I needed with my Rosie, but I knew eventually I had to let her go.
One last glance at her and I closed her eyes. I swear she saw me though through those lifeless eyes.
HER TINY COLD TOES LOCKED IN A TOMB...
ALMOST A YEAR SINCE SHE WAS IN MY WOMB.
fruitless uterus
she was supposed to save me~
E T E R N A L mother
When I say I have bleeding tears falling down my face I mean this… Eventually the blood from my body that ran through her small veins stopped flowing. It had nowhere else to stream, so naturally it had to pour from my eyes as I wept in torment. Eyes were meant to cry salt, yet my eyes bled in remorse and sorrow. Surges of my DNA I shared with her gushed down my cheeks and into my lap after I kissed her goodbye. No more salt for me. All that is left is bloodstained sheets and gory arms. I shall never throw those sheets away. I will keep them as a reminder of how my life is meaningless.
HER TINY COLD HEAD LOCKED IN A TOMB...
ALMOST A YEAR SINCE SHE WAS IN MY WOMB.
bloody tears f l o w free
salt replaced with surged remorse~
g o o d b y e...
SWEET ROSIE
October 16, 2016
Words Drowned In Tears Poetry - Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Broken Wings
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2016
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