You Show Your Pain Like It Really Hurts

And I can't even begin to feel mine.

Hello there, little one.

Can I just tell you that I'm sorry?

So very sorry.

I'm sorry that you never got to see this world,

so bright, so alive, so colorful, wonderful, fresh-air-beautiful,

and I'm sorry that the last thing you knew was

nothing but impact.

You probably were lovely.

You probably were beautiful.

You probably had your daddy's blue eyes

and your momma's fire-engine-red spirit.

Are things like "spirit" already encoded

in beings at your stage of development?

We couldn't have given you much,

and things would have gotten very dificult

in a lot of ways,

but we could have loved you.

Or at least loved you enough to make sure

you'd always be loved by someone.

We gambled,

we lost.

But we might have won, in a way.

You probably were smart.

You probably would've had great taste in music.

You probably would have had a best friend

and fantastic hair.

Big, curly, blonde hair.

And a smile that could light up a city.

We love you

even when you're not here anymore.

When worlds collided

in a cosmic crash.

And in the dark, smoky settling

of the glass and debris

you were lost.

Could I just be you tonight?