when i cradled your little body for the very first and last time, i felt so big and you were so still. i wish i held you longer, but i was scared to hurt you and the sun was too hot. i did my best to respect your life, before and after. i wrapped you in two pillow cases and brought the card board house that you loved. i went to the middle of the lake and hoped you went as deep as you had to. i left your house by the lake, just in case you wanted to visit it again. i'll visit you, too. by the lake that isn't blue, unlike your eyes.
I guess my life hasn’t always been happy, or easy, or exactly what I wanted. At a certain point, I just have to try not to think too much about certain things, or else they’ll break my heart.