The milk has dried up
My stomach has shrunk
I have lost the 10 pounds that I was supposed to gain
Even the calluses
From playing Guitar Hero to put her to sleep
Are starting to peel
All that is left
Are the new baby clothes
With the price tags still on
The new high chair
Still in its box
And the blood
The blood still flows
But even that
Will soon be gone
What will I have left of her then?
So I hold sorrow and pain close
Wishing they were her instead.
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