A burnt offering to explain my absences, or part of them.

Eve, in memoriam

I think you would've liked to hide under the bed in places
where no one could catch you even if they found you there.
Your dark eyes wouldn't give you away
like my tears.
I like to think I'd be a heroine
if only I could stop the pain.

No, little one, you are not my flesh.
My blood does not run
in your drugged, dying veins.
My breath does not bellow
in and out of your struggling lungs.
But my heart stutters with yours.

You are not mine.
Your pain is someone else's math,
someone else's case.
But you are still there in the back of my mind,
always. And when Christmas rolls around next year,
I'll remember the child
on an egg-shell crate
who was never hugged for fear
of breaking some more.

Poetry by Arti
Read 1161 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2010-01-05 at 10:43

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
During the month of August, the PoetBay community was asked to go back in time (2005-2020) to nominate memorable poems they have come across on the site. Congratulations! Yours was chosen to be featured on the home page. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!

Stan Cooper The PoetBay support member heart!
Both sad and beautiful...It takes talent...and you've got it!!!

xxx Stan

F.i.in.e Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
So good to read you again, Arti :) This is so touching and, as is your undeniable talent, so beautifully worded. Bookmarked, of course :) xx

M Heathcote
Wow, last time I visited this site you were a young girl and now you've blossomed into a beautiful young lady. But as always your poetry is constant and sublime.

a heartmoving piece,very touching indeed.....

huggables to you Arti


P K Padhy
Dear Ms Arti,
It is a touching poetic creation. You have used metaphor with splendid touch. I enjoyed reading the poem.

Best Wishes
Dr P K Padhy, India