Dedicated to my daughter, Amaya who I birthed stillborn just short of 24 weeks.
Loved ones shy away from the trauma,
As I yearn it,
consciously, immersing my entire self into the detail of your dying birth,
In an unashamed attempt, to keep your memory alive.
During my current days.
Each day, a witness to the rising sun,
I crave you, cheated,
Without you, my arms ache.
Its a lonely place.
Talk, they say, just for a limited time.
So we can all get on.
Will you listen, hear me, again ?
Or sit exhausted, tired of the same.
Devastated I have to leave you behind, as I live life.
With each laboured step,
and the intensity of a shattered mind & body,
I desperately miss you with each passing day.
I try with tiny movements,
gain strength so I may really live again.
Yet in truth,
my reality remains,
a tortured soul,
that periodically rises to be pacified again,
surviving with her memories,
which can only be settled by the joining of our souls.
But we need to wait,
So I can live a life worthy to be referred as your mother,
For the sake of your brother,
I will remain,
In the company of my miracle on this earth,
Joining you, only when my time here, is truly done.