Red Velvet

This is for the Mother thick in loss,

The bad news echoing in her ears, the tears staining her bare thighs which warm the familiar white seat beneath her.

The questions whirling around in her head, like the storm she wasn’t prepared for. The self-blame drowning her.

The repeated tests, just to be sure, leaving her worse off than when she started. A new rip tearing through her broken heart with each one.

The love exiting her body in red velvet. Lighter with each day, but a heavy constant reminder of what she won’t have in her arms forever.

The needles bruising her skin every few days. Her arm a pin cushion pierced with her reality which is far different to her dreams.

The new reflection looking back at her, now difficult to face. Upside down smiles all she can muster as she cradles what was meant to be such happiness.

The carrying on, despite her pain. The showing up for her work, or her other children, or life’s other demands because she has to. All the while completely lost in her hurt.

The Mother who has been here before, or repeatedly since the start.

The Mother who is broken.

Hurting.

Lost in her very own nightmare.

This is for that Mother.

And if you are her, or can see parts of her in this,

I hope you know you are loved.

I hope you know you are strong.

I hope you know that you are not alone.