Go ahead and mention my child.
The one that died, you know.
Don’t worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn’t show.
Don’t worry about making me cry.
I’m already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing
The tears that I try to hide.
I’m hurt when you just keep silent,
Pretending he didn’t exist.
I’d rather you mention my child,
Knowing that he has been missed.
You asked me how I was doing.
I say “pretty good” or “fine”.
But healing is something ongoing.
I feel it will take a lifetime.