Tuesday, June 18, 2013

All of it so our kids can see

And then night comes
the little ones snuggle into
the crook of my arm
breathe sweet warm air, that I
still consider baby breath, on the cheek
curls cascade or straight locks
invade my nose
depending on the child

And it's calm, quiet
And I realize, again, he will see
no more birthdays
for our babies
He cannot hold my hand

And I am crying screaming so loud
with my sound turned
off
so my throat tightens
and all I can say is

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry
I love you

I have nothing to be sorry for

but I am sorry he is gone
   and I am still here
He was better than me in so many ways

I'm sorry I couldn't
kill the cancer
I'm sorry for all the stupid I have dumped and will display
and hope my alternating compassion can somehow
make up for it all

So all I can do is cry
silently scream as loud as I can
with my mouth so wide
my jaw hurts

And try to breathe, calm, settle.  And
remember I can also still smile, sometimes...