:: The S.I.C.L.E. Cell ::

my view from the prison of a SICLE (Self-Imposed Child Loss Experience) due to debilitating maternal disease
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:: Sunday, March 12, 2006 ::

Some poetry I found in the attic:

When they told me
I was blessed
that the love of two
had become one
I only expected
stretched flesh
bigger clothes...
no the clots that pass
you are gone.

My head is filled
with due dates
and pictures of you.
How could I love you
this much
and end your life?
You were part me
part him...
lump in my stomach
to wonder by.
How soon I gave up.
How ready I was
to throw in the towel.
How empty I am.
How pregnant
with infinite sadness.

Sitting on the edge of the table
sittin on the edge of life
the biggest decision ever made
the biggest mistake
sometimes when we are poised that way
with destiny looming
waiting for answers
there is nothing to say
only papers to sign
and white jars waiting
filling up before my eyes
with the life inside.

My bdad planted a seed
might be what I need.
I thought
"What a bastard!"
but the vomit
twisted his image
he became
sainted hero
a solution to my agony
advice I took
before I knew
what agony was.

when it matters not
I can shovel it in.
I get thirsty
when there's no one
to tend.
With nothing doing,
growing inside
I'm eaten alive.

:: ashli 11:00 AM # ::

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