Bloody Marble

Another one about miscarrying.

Your voice trails off a little, as my mind
Reaches back into the thoughts it held before
My hands slip back towards my womb
A back aching beneath me, from a fall
I've suffered, and again, it happens
The line carries through your concern, but I can't
Hear you too well tonight
Pain rips through again and I whimper, holding back
Honest tears that echo my internal pain
Your voice stops when it hears my own sounds
Of agony.

"I'm worried about you..."
My eyes close tightly, my hands tracing the area
In which our child should have been resting
Instead, the forces of Nature and the Will of God
Have destroyed the results of Life again

And sometimes, I really wish I could hate you
For all your crystal methamphetamine
And the bloody, marble stairs