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April Pittman

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Member Since: Before 2003

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Featured Book
The story that must be told
by Robert Davis

Twenty one courageous and inspirational stories including the story called Running Scared, formerly called COP OUT. Written and edited by Irene Watson and Victor Volkman...  
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No energy to care about titles anymore.
by April Pittman
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by April Pittman
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           >> View all 212


I carried a small baby through six airports to get where you are


waited three weeks for the emotion to release


for just the ability to go see you


for the excuse to acknowledge the truth


neither of which ever came


I never even had the heart to ask if I could visit your grave


I had visions of kneeling on soft green grass


placing my daughter over the spot where your arms would have been


so that you could know her in some way


so that maybe she could feel you in a way that I can't seem to


but I couldn't get up the nerve to face your decision


even now, back in the midst of ice and bitter cold, I can't face you


I suppose if there were any way to speak to you, this is it


you should know, I'm in a bad place now


I'm just in a very bad place


sometimes it's easier to blame you, to scream at you when no one's around


you make me feel so insane, like I could pull my hair out strand by strand


like I could actually do what you did


was it your intention to wait until I had a daughter to love me?


so that I could never do to her what you did to me?


sometimes I hate you so much I feel like I die inside


whether I choose to or not


and sometimes I just don't have the energy to feel at all


I look at this little girl and I can't help but smile


but the moment she falls asleep at night there you are


your demons so quaintly resting on my shoulders.



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Reviewed by Jeremy Vaeni
Ugh. Just, UGH!!! Thankfully, you're too much a genius to follow... I hope.
Reviewed by jude forese
encapsulates your grief and loss in a very well written poem ...
Reviewed by April Pittman
Just for the record. This wasn't my son. It was my brother.
Reviewed by Ch'erie de Perrot
Dear April,
Your Son was only but a few months younger than my first son, who was born Jan 1987. My heart is with you, for your pain is justified, and it takes so much out of us to even come to the point of letting the anger go.
My second Son has nearly died on me many times, and i grew to expect it, it was like living with death already, but miraculously he is still here, now I face the inevitable death of my spouse, so death is inseperable from my life too.

My prayers are for you and your comfort, and your sanity, and continuing strength, when you feel you have none left to carry on.

Love much
Ch'erie
Reviewed by Janet Caldwell
Oh shit April, I want to hold you and let you scream your lungs out, crawl across the floor and dig your fingernails into my carpet, pull it up, I don't care. I just want to comfort you and I can't. My brothers gone too, Thank God for your girl, it's so weird, I was pregnant with my daughter when my brother died. Take care April, don't let go.

Love & Prayers, Janet xoxoxo
Reviewed by Floria Kelderhouse (Reader)
I wanted to read this so badly and couldnt see the tiny print so I copied and pasted it in mail and made it larger...I share this with you April...although the circumstances are different..I lost my son...but he didn't do it to himself...you have all my sympathy and prayers...we never know what is in a loved ones heart who is suffering or why they suffer and do what they do...but I pray that you find peace and comfort in Gods love....life goes on...its been three years for me and it seems like yesterday...I cannot even imagine the hell you are going through...bless you...floria
Reviewed by No Longer Member (Reader)
great poetry April. It gets better you know....when? You won't even know when it happens
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