YOUR BEST CREATION

Two lines! You tell him, he knows.

Poke and laugh, as your belly grows.

Miniature, a mustard seed.

You and him are all she'll need.

Life is yellow, the soul sings.

Folks fuss, they bring you things.

Tiny clothes, another book.

Sure, you'll take a look.

Screaming, when no one's around.

Feeling, without a sound.

Heartbreak, sore eyes, wet ears.

Desperate to swallow tears.

Twenty weeks, make a decision.

A heart is stopped with kind precision.

Fuck those words 'no live fetus'

We cannot let this defeat us.

It's right, it's wrong.

If they say so, you're strong.

It's real, she's born.

You smile, you mourn.

Eyes closed, she's sleeping.

Arms open, you're weeping.

“Look at her, she has your face”.

You’ll always be her happy place.

Like you, she did things her way,

Came to you on Mother's Day.

Tiny clothes, still in a pile.

Keep them, they make you smile.

She’s not a mark, she is decoration.

A work of art, your best creation.

She walks with you, she never left.

Your heart is full, not bereft.

Speak her name, you are allowed.

Never mind the unwilling crowd.

Of course, you don't regret it.

And of course, they don't get it.

You talk, they listen.

Time stops, eyes glisten.

“Oh, your baby was stillborn?”

“Yes, my baby was still born.”

© Reena Jadav 2025