I know I can be a little dark
but everything is a little dark
my eyes have not adjusted yet
When I hear a baby girl laugh
I feel Tinsley kick
When I see a little girl’s ponytail
I feel her do a somersault
When I smell ripe bananas
I feel her grow an inch
When I touch my son’s button nose
I feel her scrunch hers up, too.
None of this is dark, of course,
except she’s already dead.
And the only purpose the world serves today
is to remind me of that fact.
Less Than 1%: Surviving My Stillborn 