In baby’s small hands
she saw his
and as baby pulled her necklace
into an embrace
she trembled, remembered
the power he once had.
Still had, swimming
in baby’s blue eyes,
nothing like hers,
her bruises were purple,
yellow and green.
Green like baby’s vomit,
gurgling screams,
a chest full of blood
a heart full of hurt
a heart full of love.
Love left in no man’s land
and a bed for a trench,
once balled up,
finally curled up
stroking baby’s hair.
Hair like hers,
wispy and wind-kissed,
free to breathe
a future, called
‘Baby and Me’.
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Kristiana Reed juggles writing and teaching English; in both vocations she endeavours to remind people of their self worth and how dazzlingly beautiful the world can be.
You can read more of Kristiana’s writing at My Screaming Twenties
