Thursday, September 5, 2013


My sorrow is thick.

And stiff--

The walls of a coffin.

My fear hauls me down.
Buries me in.
a frail kind of rage
that makes it


to see.
to hear.
to be.

I yell and kick.

There is only silence.
There is only stillness.
aching and cheerless--

As though I do not exist.

I have turned to dust.

I try to reassemble myself.
But I seethe through the cracks.
I seep through the spaces.

As tears that somehow escape the ground

we are countless--an exodus
of dull, dead stars.

Smoldering away,

from our cruel glory.

That truly never was.


I never was.

[This poem is dedicated to all of my fellow adoptees who often must face deep longing and grief--although we must travel through life knowing such profound loss and sorrow, we are here with one another that we may not walk alone. And although we first had to lose ourselves, we are here to strengthen one another as we learn to find and discover who we once were and who we will become...]


To view other previous posts written by Mila at Lost Daughters, click here.