there is much more to life

than breathing.

the years you never spent here taught me

more than i could ever hope to tell.

but mostly i have been alone,

bearing half a soul in silence.

the weight of your emptiness feels much,

much heavier than you would've felt

tucked away in my arms.

i wonder, sometimes, what you would've

thought of me, had you opened your eyes

that night.

i wonder, sometimes, how your voice

would've echoed through the halls, like the

lullabies i was meant to sing you.

and i wonder, all the time, if i would've

been enough for you.

and then i cannot move,

i cannot speak,

i cannot breathe because you never could.
☆☆☆☆

there is more than breathing, i know.

but right now, all i know is that

i shouldn't have let you slip away, flower.

i should've turned around and held your

hand and kept you steady and warm on my

chest until you had no choice but to stay

with me and breathe,

breathe,

breathe.

-V

(written for my aunt and all the others who never get to meet their babies)