heavy heart

No one told me that

when they removed the weight from my womb

they implanted another in my heart.

A tiny, nearly imperceptible pebble

that was alive

and would grow.

It must have been placed there

while I was anesthetized with joy

giddy with relief

mesmerized by the weight in my arms

I did not notice the subtle slice into my heart.

It waxes and wanes

fueled by fevers and tears

by loneliness and fears

which are not my own.

Still they hurt my heart.

My condition feels acute

but I know it is chronic.

I will not die of it.

It will not show up on the autopsy report

but it is incurable.

Some days I forget the mass is there

it shrinks so small, so light

I am sure it is gone -

I am cured.

But not for long.