I wanted chaos
/
I wanted chaos.
Sore nipples insanely tired.
But I am empty.
Something missing
Again, saw him in my dreams
Finally he cried
She had a baby
Doctor said only four weeks
So small, so much hair
I lost it all then
I deserved, needed a baby
I worked so, so hard
Aches of emptiness
I've drank so much vodka
Just need to forget
Death would be welcome
To see, hold him once again
Kiss his tiny toes
Ashes are all I have
They're small, fit in one hand
Grief so deep, pure pain
+++
I should have been up doing the third feeding of the night. Instead, I was in tears. I didn't have my baby: my perfect, fully-grown, ten fingers, ten toes, 7.1 lbs and 21" of joy. He had died. I'd forget it all happened in periods of restless sleep, then look over at the empty bassinet and the gut wrenching panic would set in again. At 4 AM I was looking at his photo over and over.
The haikus started coming then and continue to flood now. They are trying to ease me into the process of death, the only real form of cathartic release I have right now. Little tidbits of selfishness, pain, unrest, and more pain, that slip into my brain throughout the days. But creating them gives me a small break in the madness right now, and little moment of silence.
— Holly
What is your cathartic release?