My life before you never happened and now I’m forced to live without you – how? It’s been four days and I’ve aged years. There was nothing wrong with you. You were perfectly healthy. Bigger and stronger even than what you needed to be at your age. It was my body that failed you. Failed to keep you safe. I would have gone to the edges of the earth to save you, sweet girl. I’m so sorry I wasn’t enough. What else should I have done? Tell me and I will.
My belly shrinks and my breasts swell – painful, cruel reminders of the baby I can’t nurse. Colostrum like quiet sobs from my body. The sage tea I drink to dry up tastes bitterly of anger. Who the fuck decided I should deal with this right now?
“Sister” guts me; I failed her too.
I can’t go on like you don’t exist because you did. I can’t go on like you exist because you don’t. Can I go back? I’m paralyzed.