An ampoule of pain

For a change, a poem. A moment captured and distilled.  Just an essence. Only the essential – nothing more. I’m not vouching for its poetic genius; it is what it is. An ampoule of pain – just enough to grieve and get through, which I have done now – so now, it’s time to share – not the grief but the process. To those of you who know, my deepest sympathies; to those who do not, I’ll keep my fingers and toes crossed that you never shall.


skin and bones and lead

a sack of fat – empty & soft

hair dripping, skin drying


cracking imperceptibly

spiders vein

shattering glass falls away –

it hurts inside.

on the out – nothing

a flush

maybe from the hot water

tears stiffening, blink twice


keep going.

(Title: miscarriage)

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