The un-baby

You never existed

They told me you did

For 2 hours, maybe 3, you were there

I gave you a name

And then I pissed in a cardboard bowl

And they said no


No baby


I didn’t want you

But I do now

And your father is dead

He died a month ago

The grief overflows


I won’t say what I called you

That’s a secret between you and me

But everything changed in that ambulance

And now I want you

The grief is doubled

I can’t look at babies

I went shopping for baby clothes

I saw you in them

I see you so clearly

Your dark eyes, brown skin

I see you, but you’ll never be


I want you now

With him, with Jazz

Who’s gone forever


This is all nonsense

I just want you

In my arms

My wrinkly newborn un-baby

You would’ve been Jazz’s

A little pale brown thing,

Clutched against my chest, warm, wet,

His dark eyes, perhaps,

My narrow nose


I lost you both

I lost my last friend

And I lost his baby too


My un-baby

Who was never, ever there

But I feel you just the same

I feel you, a tiny person in my belly

A little piece of Jazz





I screamed until I lost my voice

In the middle of the night

I lost you both

And I’m overwhelmed

There’s nothing but pain


2 Responses to “The un-baby”

  1. chapter 67 Says:

    I can’t say anything that will make you feel better, because you don’t know me. I don’t know Jazz, but you know Jazz. From the way you talk about him he cared a lot about everyone he met and would have gone the distance and another half for you, probably for anyone. I don’t know if he took his own life, but if he did I know it was for himself, for his own reasons. I don’t know Jazz, but I know he wouldn’t want you to fall apart. I can’t tell you I’m sending you positive vibes or thoughts or love, because that would mean nothing coming from no one. But I think about you every day. And I hope.

    • Thank you ❤ It does mean a lot, from anyone. God, this month's been a headfuck! Last night I went out for a sandwich and some wine, and walking at night was good, so I kept walking, and then I sat down on the street and just screamed. Someone asked if I was ok and I kinda fled, lol. Then I phoned the Samaritans and I kept holding the phone away so I could scream more. It helps, but I need a soundproof fricken room! I miss Jazz so much, it didn't hit me at first but now it has it's unbelievable, like literally, I don't believe it. I want to call his phone, see who picks up, if anyone. Maybe it would be his niece and she'd rant at me but she'd tell the truth, about how he died…

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