holding on to the flowers made for the grave. i knew it would come in handy one day..

 the impetus of a baby dying

death at the head, death at the feet

one to die so another can live 

a sacrifice 

passed on 

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spotify playlist for the surgeons 

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i said thankyou before being knocked out by the anastehtia which is like saying i was thanking the baby for giving me the wisdom and lessons for the time it nurtred me in my sack 

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at the ocean writing down goodbye knowing once the tide came in the ocean waves would wash the words away and the baby would go back to the ocean to be then reincarnated for a lesson its wisdom already so potent

the thought that the baby was already was from being in my womb while i had such thoughts of clarity nurture and maybe a real since of peace of perseverence 

or being beyond grateful to live a carefull life 

growing plants and the feeling of soft water 

and an echo i love you olive 

and what is suffering 

my memory of the hot night in the desert