H
literature

Heart Ache

psyence-a-gogo's avatar
By psyence-a-gogo   |   Watch
1 1 46 (1 Today)
Published: April 28, 2009
My baby has no name
Not yet, until he's fully formed
But if he were to be titled
I would have many names for him

He would be Heart Ache
That silent cry in the night
Suffering from the first breath
Nothing good will ever come for him

Or maybe Astyanax
Thrown from life
Made to pay for what he little understood
Just a child, in reality

Perhaps he is a Benjamin
I feel this fits
For he will definitely be
The son of my sorrow

I lay a hand upon my son
Still settled deep inside
Stay inside Heart Ache, Astyanax, Benjamin
At least you're safe in there.
Recommended Literature
T
The Third Sibling
I don’t know why I assumed it would be a boy. Intuition, maybe. Or perhaps, little brothers were all I knew. My third sibling paused in the first trimester and never hit play: a frozen picture on the ultrasound. Mom came home, stole to bed, and shut the door with a clack soft as thunder. My third sibling is a silence, forgotten outside the quiet moments alone, when I wonder what his name was.
M
Makeshift Symphony
He tied piano strings to his heart, so that every time it beat it didn't sound so empty inside. But the music in his heart couldn’t permeate the hollow air as the metronome kept time for the clock. One, two. One, two. Reedy notes plummeted from his lips as he made me pluck out Tchaikovsky and Bach when all I wanted to play was twinkletwinklelittlestar. "I'm just a little girl." My fingers tripped and stumbled and I know that I could never play as well as he needed me to; I could never keep his notes from slipping off the page. White and black sideswiped my fingers, as I struck one chord too many. "I've always wanted to
H
How To Raise A Borderline
Don’t recognize your child’s needs, or at the very least see them as secondary to your own. Ignore your child’s tears; tell them to buck up. Better yet, tell them if they don’t stop crying you’ll give them something to cry about. That outta teach ’em. Weigh them down with adult demands. Expect them to cook dinner at nine years old because you’ll be home late. Force them to grow up too fast, or don’t allow them to grow up at all because in a child’s dependent role is where you can control them. Don’t be consistent, with anything. Change your values like you change your sex partners
© 2009 - 2019 psyence-a-gogo
inspired by Elizabeth Jenning's poem Song for a Birth or a Death.

this took me way longer to write than it normally would. i don't know why, but the words just wouldn't come out of my head.

this is also the first poem that i've ever written with capitals.
Recommended Literature
T
The Third Sibling
I don’t know why I assumed it would be a boy. Intuition, maybe. Or perhaps, little brothers were all I knew. My third sibling paused in the first trimester and never hit play: a frozen picture on the ultrasound. Mom came home, stole to bed, and shut the door with a clack soft as thunder. My third sibling is a silence, forgotten outside the quiet moments alone, when I wonder what his name was.
M
Makeshift Symphony
He tied piano strings to his heart, so that every time it beat it didn't sound so empty inside. But the music in his heart couldn’t permeate the hollow air as the metronome kept time for the clock. One, two. One, two. Reedy notes plummeted from his lips as he made me pluck out Tchaikovsky and Bach when all I wanted to play was twinkletwinklelittlestar. "I'm just a little girl." My fingers tripped and stumbled and I know that I could never play as well as he needed me to; I could never keep his notes from slipping off the page. White and black sideswiped my fingers, as I struck one chord too many. "I've always wanted to
H
How To Raise A Borderline
Don’t recognize your child’s needs, or at the very least see them as secondary to your own. Ignore your child’s tears; tell them to buck up. Better yet, tell them if they don’t stop crying you’ll give them something to cry about. That outta teach ’em. Weigh them down with adult demands. Expect them to cook dinner at nine years old because you’ll be home late. Force them to grow up too fast, or don’t allow them to grow up at all because in a child’s dependent role is where you can control them. Don’t be consistent, with anything. Change your values like you change your sex partners
Comments1
anonymous's avatar
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Sign In
©2019 DeviantArt
All Rights reserved