Go ahead and mention my children,

The ones that died, you know.

Don't worry about hurting me further.

The depth of my pain doesn't show.

Don't worry about making me cry.

I'm already crying inside.

Help me to heal by releasing

The tears that I try to hide.

I'm hurt when you just keep silent,

Pretending they didn't exist.

I'd rather you mention my children,

Knowing that they have been missed.

You asked me how I was doing.

I say "pretty good" or "fine".

But healing is something ongoing

I feel it will take a lifetime.