This poetry collection was created with intention. Every chapter, page, and every sentence has a meaning. I created this collection of poetry as therapy; a medicine if you will, for my mind. I’ve found comfort in these words; may you do the same.

 

This collection is made of 84 poems as a dedication to my miscarriage of triplets. 7/12/2016. 7x12=84. I turned the most heart-breaking day into a collection of poetry to symbolize the continuation of movement. I refuse to weep in place; depression has a harder time trying to hit a moving target.

​

There are 99 thoughts that I thought while feeling the different emotions that sitting in grief induced. 100 only exist in a perfect world. It’s OK to not be perfect and healing doesn’t always look how it’s expected to look. You’ll never be 100% the same as you were before encountering grief. THAT IS OKAY, because 99 is the new complete. Stop looking for 100, it doesn’t exist.

​

These thoughts were numbered as I felt them and placed where they belonged under the chapter or stage of grief that each thought was curated under. This will show you that healing is not linear nor is it in a set order. You may feel hopeful one day and the next, engulfed with rage. That is okay. Feel it, you are entitled to. Each thought is in the stage/chapter it was created during. If you order them from 1-99 in order you will see that each day had a different feeling along with a different rollercoaster of emotions felt. 

 

The book is green to symbolize growth. Like a plant, we need to water and pour into ourselves so that we continue to thrive. We are gardeners gardening first and foremost. Take care of you, physically and mentally.

 

The dedication to London Bell on the dedication page:

This is the old London, the one survived by London Bridges. I legally changed my last name a decade ago after being forced to sign three death certificates in the last name Bell. The same last name that spitefully turned my medical insurance off and left me for dead in the hospital as I had surgery, three blood transfusions and miscarried after a medical malpractice. Although apologized to in secret and begged to change it back, I will never do so. Because people know exactly what they’ve done, and it was done intentionally. All my degrees and accomplishments are under Bridges. The stronger me is a Bridges. I will be Ms. Bridges forever; and after life I will still be London Bridges, the author.

​

1, 2 my 3

 

This poem, this one, is to my three. My triplets. The reason my last name is changed. This poem is dedicated to all of the parents of children miscarried, or stillborn. 

 

 

A pretty penny

 

This poem is to validate that it is OK to protect your peace. Protecting your peace may cost you a lot. This could include cutting off people that are close to you that you may love. This may mean missing people and loving them from a distance. This poem is about honoring your boundaries and protecting your peace.

 

Essentials 

 

This poem was created to remind readers that they are essential in this universe, regardless of how they may feel about themselves or how others have made them feel. I don’t care what you’ve been told, YOU ARE ESSENTIAL to someone. That might not even be from someone you know but you are needed, wanted, and appreciated. The readers I run into that my book touches heal me, people holding the door open when the entire day has been nothing but heavy stick with me. Nice words bring tears to my eyes once I get in my car and close my car door. Imagine how many people really needed a person like you to exist on this earth; no matter how small the encounter was. 

 

 

Growing Pains

This poem is about growing apart from family or friends that you were close with at one point in life. At the end of the day, like a gardener gardening, we are all tending to and molding our own lives. We are all watering our own grass and planting seeds so that the families that we made can enjoy the fruits of our labor. In the midst of life, we may grow apart. Although worthy of grief, due to spending time and making core memories a lot of the time with these friends or family members, there are no hard feelings. 

 

If I were you

 

This poem was created to act as the voice of a person who has been through something traumatic or may have started grieving and a person decides to comment on what they would do if they were you and in the situation that you have been subjected to. 

 

 

I’m Short

 

This poem was originally created to showcase the feeling of grieving being short of a goal or deadline. When I created this collection of poetry, I desperately wanted 84 poems to dedicate to my miscarriage. July 12 (7.12) equals 84. While what was supposed to be the last days of writing, my grandmother passed away and my mother required a lot of attention during this time for her own mental illness reasons. I felt extremely defeated but I was ready to accept the reality of my circumstances and grieve the fact that I would not be able to reach 84 poems. I was drained, I felt defeated, and I needed to grieve my grandmother.

A friend suggested that I make one last poem explaining how you can have grief from falling short of a goal. Once I recounted my poems that laid sprawled across the bed, I realize that I’m short actually was poem number 84. What I thought would be poem number 80 was poem number 84. This poem is to let you know it is OK to fall short of a goal and that you can still be proud of yourself and how hard you tried. I’m short doubles as a testament and proof that sometimes if you take even just one more step that step could be the step that was needed to reach your goal.

 

 

I sewed my wings back on

​

This poem was made to describe the process of overcoming. Showcasing how it feels when people do things to you in hopes of destroying you and breaking your spirit. This poem represents perseverance and the will to live, to keep going forward no matter what hand you were dealt. Sometimes people watch, hoping you won’t realize how powerful you are. And the kicker is once you overcome the obstacles, there will be people who will do it again if you let them. Steer clear of those who have the audacity to make your life harder on purpose and then ask you to allow them back in your life.

 

It is that deep

​

This poem was created for anyone who ever was made to feel like they were overreacting to their feelings being hurt or unconsidered. I’m here to say it is that deep, don’t let anyone tell you something isn’t a big deal that bothered you. Stand up for your feelings because if the same thing were done to them they would clearly see just how deep it is. And even if they wouldn’t care how you care about a topic that doesn’t invalidate how YOU feel. Those are YOUR feelings; you have the right to refuse to shrink them. 

 

Let them go 

 

This poem is to remind us to let go of the things and people that hurt us. There is power in walking away. Sometimes hanging on will cause you to have to grieve even more in the long run. Trust yourself enough to let go for your own well-being.

 

Mistress 

 

This poem represents the grief we feel for having to suppress our true calling in order to survive and provide for ourselves and our families. The desperately sad feeling of knowing if you had it your way you would spend more time pouring into your hobbies and the things that make you happy in life is acknowledged in this poem. The bitterness and anger we may harbor towards our 9 to 5 although it did nothing, but what it was supposed to do; provide resources to survive. It’s just that that’s not enough for the heart and its true passion.

 

 

 

 

My unlocked door

​

This is a poem dedicated to those who experienced sexual assault as an adult. To address the feeling of helplessness, guilt, and shame that one may have from being an adult and getting assaulted. In this poem, we let go of the feeling of being naïve. In this poem, we let go of the could’ve and should’ve thoughts. In this poem, we release taking the blame for someone else’s actions. It was never your fault; it could never be your fault; no matter what the circumstances were.

 

 

Off white

 

This poem is to honor and bring awareness of the molestation of children and the everlasting grief that comes along with it. This is a dedication to those too young to even grasp what’s happening to them. This poem honors and recognizes the grief that grows as a child matures into adulthood and realizes the magnitude of the violation they’ve been subjected to. This is a dedication to the children who know what’s happening to them isn’t right and we were courageous enough to speak up, then were silenced. This is a dedication to the children, whose innocence was taken. This is a dedication to the children whose childhood was tainted. This is a poem to let others know they are seen and their story is a story that sadly belongs to so many others as well.

 

 

Overdose

 

This poem was created to remind you not to allow people to use you. This poem validates the familiar reaction that we get from stopping people from overusing and abusing our helpfulness. Also be mindful of what stages of grief this poem falls under. Often times we find ourselves saying yes to things we don’t want to say yes to and overextending ourselves as a form of coping with grief. We bargain and trade in endless favors in hopes of being appreciated and loved in return.

 

 

Sticks and Stones 

 

This poem was created to allow outsiders into the mind of a person that may be getting bullied regardless of the setting. Words stick to people and you have no idea how long the words that you say to a person can linger in their heads. You have no idea what those same words can fester into and destroy from the inside out in that person. This is a reminder to be nice to people, to all people. We go through enough in life and nobody needs help feeling horrible. Uplift and stand up for those who are too timid to do so for themselves.

 

 

You Forgot Something 

This poem was created to honor the voices of children of the parents that put them last. I honor the feelings that got brushed under the rug, the words too scary to say, the words that if spoken, deem them problematic in their parents’ world; a world they never asked to be in.