Gone.

I told myself
I would soak this time in,
my baby,
our last baby.

But you’re turning one.

It’s like a gut punch
every time I see you.

I would say it’s ok,
I get to watch you grow,
but right now it’s not ok.

I’m not ok.

This 
is
not
ok.

I miss my baby.
Just last week you were my baby,
weren’t you?

You won’t even remember
the baby you were,
the baby I loved 
so fiercely.

And am desperately
trying to remember, too.