Stomach filled with lead.
Pulse rate: 10,000 bpm, it seems.
Teeth grinding, grindging, grinding.
What is this daily fright?
Not a fear of heights,
nor spiders, leaving the house,
germs, long words.
But this: a fear of slumber.
How many times will I visit your casket?
Every night.
Here I watch you scream and scream as you
deteriorate.
Can't move or speak or scream with you.
(Intangible Me.)
No binky will pacifiy you now.
No smile will lift your spirits.
Here I lie again, shivering
as I settle down for another night
with you.
I don't rest in peace. I hope you do.
Author notes
My baby died of SIDS last month.
I have a recurring nightmare in which I am in his casket with him, but I'm not tangible. I can see him, but that's the only one of the five senses that I can use. But he screams and I can't help him because he's already dead.
He was three and a half months old, and he was perfect.
But I think I lost any ability to keep any poem or story coherent in the meantime.
A contest entry
- Earthquake by Allyce May.
900 points, ended March 26, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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So sad, I am afraid that words could not do this justice because it so much more than a poem. It's a feeling, a broken heart, endless nights of angst and pain.
Your message was clear and I am sure your son is smiling down you as a guardian angel.
Thank you for sharing
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this was the saddest read in quite awhile-
I'm sorry for your loss, I pray it all gets better
~aj~
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I am so sorry that you can write a beautiful, powerful, vivid poem about this!! I'm sending my love to you!
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