I still remember the feel of your weight upon me--
kicking your tiny heels,
cooing and crying.
There’s the stain you left the first night you slept.
I told you it was okay.
Where did you go?
Teddy was pulled from my touch yesterday,
stuffed into a box and put away.
Did I cradle you too much?
Mother has been crying since you left.
I can’t seem to sleep, either.
Where did you go?
I'm laying empty
a cage with no songbird inside.
Where did my friend go?
Are you ever coming back?
Don’t you need to sleep sometime?
Father said I’m being sold,
no need to hold on to things he’ll never need.
Mother said she wants another you,
but I’m still being taken somewhere else.
Please tell me you’re there.
Dead sounds like a sad place to be alone.