Cardiff family lifestyle, arts and culture blog.

4/29/2018

A Poem: The Silver Lining of Loss.


Baby feet and title.
 *miscarriage post.
It's been a long time since I've posted a poem on the blog. In fact, it's been a long time since I wrote a poem. This one has been bubbling inside of me for a while, and I wrote it on the way to our break in Harrogate, mostly because I had no internet but a burning desire to write...

I cried as I wrote it, but it was therapeutic to do it, and I imagine I'll do it again and again, in a feeble attempt to mend my broken heart...
 

The Silver Lining of Loss.


You spilled from me like sand between my fingertips.
The pulse of the ebb and flow of you, 
I still remember…

Autumn leaves fell as you fell,
and my tears joined you in the water.

You could have been my daughter,
or son, we'll never know…

And even though you left us,
You'll never really go.

The hole inside my heart is deep,
and each day it weeps 
for you…

Would you have looked like me?
Would your favourite colour have been green?

I think you'd have just been you,
but I bled you away...

Why didn't you stay?

We would have swallowed you up with love, my darling.

We would have showered you in kisses,
and granted all your wonderful wishes.

You would have been loved…
to death.

But the grief is real; I feel it.
There's a void inside of me...

And although there are no scars,
each month I'm reminded
of your early expiry.

Ripped from my womb and flushed away...

Oh, why didn't you stay?

Why did my body do this to you?
Why did it force you from my womb,
into the bowels of your desecrated tomb?

Someone told us, 'Every cloud has a silver lining…'
Someone else, 'But look how lucky you already are…'
Such bizarre sentiment,
such flippant lips,
if only they could see the scars...

Do they know I felt every, single drop of you,
melting like an ice-cream in the sun...
A child crying as it drops to the floor,
that's who I've become.

Crimson streaks and powerful peaks,
my body worked you out of me.

The dress I wore the day you died hangs,
like a bad luck charm in my wardrobe.

I hate it,
but I cannot let it go-
It's a firm reminder of you.

One day it will be a piece of frayed cloth,
And I will show it to those who matter.
I could cry for a thousand years for you...
Because you were a person to me.
 
You were a small soul with a shot at life,
but something got in the way.

Why didn't you stay?

There is no silver lining to see,
and no matter how many years go by,
I'll always wonder -

Was it me... 

Was it me...

       Was it me?











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