My belly button won’t leave me alone.
It taunts and reminds me
of the breaths Tinsley will never take.
I’ve heard stories
of healthy ‘rainbow’ babies being born,
and moms asking for their dead ones.
It’s not psychosis.
It’s just a mother’s love
confused by despair, mangled by pain,
and unapologetically incomplete.
Maybe I will try to have another child
but not yet.
No, I’m not ready yet.