“The clock reads 5:36. I hear him yell. Blood is trickling from his mouth. Shock. Fear. Confusion. Put him in the car. Stop. No time. He’s not breathing. Cry. Scream. Beg him to breathe. The police are here to question us. Why aren’t they doing anything? It’s too late. We have to plan a funeral. Shortly after, my relationship ends. The burden of a dead baby is too much. I fall asleep crying on my son’s grave frequently. I cannot breathe. I am a disaster trying to maintain normalcy.”
- Love What Matters
- Image