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Without You

I’m being cut open on a stage, in front of everyone
and no one can help me or knows what to say;
I just stand here, with my arms wide open
the deep cut through my torso making a bloody mess
and my heart is breaking loose from my veins
and then it plops right onto the floor
my lungs follow suit, one dropping down after the other
and my stomach oozes out, my bile seeping into the floorboards
while my bowel and intestines sliver out like snakes-
everything I need to live is now gone;

I’m still alive, still here- without you
when someone quietly approaches
I didn’t hear them coming
they won’t look me in the eye
they start stitching me up
patting me on the back saying
“it’ll all be okay” and
“you can have another baby” and
“miscarriage is incredibly common”

But I ask them, “what am I supposed to do now?”
and they shrug and say “just keep on livin’”
and for a moment we are both still
as we look at the floor
which is caked with my blood, and guts, and beatless heart
“how?” I ask
“I have no idea.”

Taylor lives in the Midwest with her husband and two cats. She writes in her free time whenever her emotions overwhelm her. She shares the poems that she deems good enough on her personal blog which can be found at

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