Nine Months

Happy fuc king nine months.
This one's been the best.
But then, why should it be any better
or different than the rest?

I don't mind the crying,
I just hate the feeling sad.
I hate the all out sobbing
and feeling this fu cki ng bad.

I'm sorry I couldn't make you stay,
I'm sorry you think what you do.
Just thought I'd write you a poem
and tell you I love you.

You won't see it 'til the morning.
You've already gone.
And I suppose I deserve this
and I forgot a night could feel this long.

I think I'm just gonna turn off the lights now
and listen to a lullaby.
Thanks for nine months, Jesse.
Thanks for giving me your best try...