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Birthday Song

CW: This poem is about miscarriage & babyloss


Don’t worry, there are others.

But they don’t understand

They don’t hear my belly’s mournful cry

the loss howling through this empty place

whistling through my hollow teeth.


All the time, it happens.

But they don’t understand

How I ache in my bones, in my sinews, my head

How I let and let the blood until there is none left

The river mouth parched-

and I am all but spent.


It’s been a year, or many.

They don’t understand

this newfound, mournful shape of me,

how rest just gets away from me,

and how my birthday

will always be the day you died.