it is many short days,
long in dreams and possibility
every twinge and tingle
may be proof of life!
of hope, transformed into being
it is divine
this grievous longing
i resist and submit
as my insides are pulled out into the world
stretched bare in front of the sun
my feet burns
unprotected on the sand
gold piles up all around me
and i barter with whoever will listen
to give me you, instead
Less Than 1%: Surviving My Stillborn 