They say there is a difference between being lonely and being alone.
It didn’t matter.
She was both.
She couldn’t say that she didn’t cry
because she did.
Heaving sobs that racked her body
It wasn’t like one fetus was ripped from her
Twenty-three reasons to smile;
Twenty-three reasons to cry;
There’s some summer waiting ahead of her,
but she finds herself wishing for springtime
and praying for rain.