There is another baby in my belly but that one dies inside me and for weeks I don’t know it until the doctor turns the screen toward me and lets me say it myself: There’s no heartbeat, I say. I ask my belly why. My belly has no answer. My belly, hollow, weeps blood. My baby died, I tell my friend. My baby died, my baby died, my baby died. And then I feed my belly. Chocolate cake, red wine, potato chips, cookies, all of it. My belly sends it back. On my knees, on the floor, weeping, I think, Not enough. Bottomless pit. ~ Goldberry Long. **My girl on Brain, Child Magazine today. I mentioned her in my Rumpus essay yesterday too, if you remember.
Posted on: Mon, 15 Sep 2014 16:35:52 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015