Sta.sh
first there was 6 pounds and 8 ounces.
then there was a hole in the ground
and ashen expressions on faces of
people who knew nothing.
dark nights spread out on milky-way smiles
with a shot of vodka and a stumbling step.
it was awkward and messy but it was done.
and he said he’d kiss my neck in the morning
but all I woke up to was empty spaces in
between my bed sheets.
I waited two months for it to be real.
I went to the seven-eleven and faced the
old man at the counter who sold me my
fate for $8.50 in a small pink box.
the public toilets swallowed me in a
melancholy light that screamed
bad names down my throat
and I felt
so
alone.
I went home to an already broken household
choked with oven fumes and my family who
said they loved each other to keep a brave
face for the younger siblings.
I shed tears in the shower as I tried to
wash away my thoughts,
like they’d just come out of the pores in
my skin.
the morning sickness on my breath said
no more school. no more life.
you quickly find out who your real friends are-
turns out I had fake ones.
I sat on your back door mat for 4 hours and 23
minutes, waiting for you to come home.
I looked you in the eye and spoke words
you didn’t want to hear.
you pushed me off the step and slammed
the door in my face.
I haven’t seen you in 5 months.
d-day was worse than I could have imagined,
it happened so fast and I couldn’t do a thing
to help it. all I could do was curse,
how could he have done this to me.
I could hear the nurses station from my bed
"its not looking good for that baby number 6"
and at that moment my heart sank to my
stomach and all I could see was
red red red.
there was 6 pounds and 8 ounces of
plastic tubes and heart machines
pumping life into limbs.
but it wasn’t enough.
her name was skye,
whispered into deaf ears.
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Disbelief 
And don't cry!
