How is it that I miss you?
I never even knew
the color of your eyes
the feel of your heartbeat
the softness of your breath
But I do.
I miss you.
363 days later.
Yes, I've counted
Almost a full year
and it still hurts.
Still...
Still.
I've come to learn to
hate that word.
You were more than that.
More than still.
You kicked.
You hiccuped.
You twisted and turned
in protest.
You fought.
Hard.
Until you couldn't anymore.
I felt your last, soft
almost lifeless
little kick.
363 days ago.
And it still hurts.
Maybe not as often,
But it's more than just a
tender ache
The way I imagined it would be
By now.
I miss you.
And it doesn't seem to matter
that I never knew you.
Even though your tiny fingers
never closed around my own
I still knew you as my own.
My precious daughter,
Holly.
Your mother loves you so.
