Sunday, November 29, 2009

Healing Haiku

The worst day wasn't
that Thursday when you walked out
That was just the end

Day of I.V.F.
when you threatened to leave me
That was the worst day

Your sperm, her eggs - two
embryos in my body
You so fucked it up

6 months planning
Thirty grand, so many shots
And you were not sure?

Maybe you were scared
to have a child with me
But your timing sucked

Then you cried with me
when it failed in every way
Why don't we adopt?

It was your idea
The interview was Monday
You left just before

I see a pattern
You don't want me, don't want kids
Doesn't matter which

Trying to explain
to the nice social worker
I broke down sobbing

You got the hell out
Leaving me with only dreams
Childless, forty-three