Email Poem

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Poem

The burden of holding it 
in my arms 
weighed me down to nothing.

I had not felt like myself for months, 
and no one noticed my morning breath 
at midnight or my late-night schnapps 
scented coffee.

My hatred formed from the voracity it had to suck 
on life itself. The way its eyes always locked on 
to the deep creases of my misery 
reminding me of the failure I had 
become. My youth vanished 
overnight, like the voices 
of those who never cried. 
(I wasn’t lucky enough for that.) Still 
I held it in my arms, trembling, fighting 
coherency. To say I tried is not enough, but
the constant cry for more, the unsatisfaction 
from the satisfaction I didn’t provide. 
I had not felt like myself for months, 
and no one notice.

Since the beginning, I felt pain in the pit of my belly 
like worms eating the flesh on my livelihood. 
I felt the jab in my sides, and the violent fits of rage. 
Then came the constant clawing 
from the inside. I still have the scars to remind me
it was self-defense.

Against my chest, I squeeze it hard, a bitter lemon 
not yet ripe, with so little juice to give.
A peace unfurled inside of me 
As its final breath escaped
like plumes of smoke 
from the mouth of my dying son.

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