# Aching by Brittany Searle Kempaiah

Page: https://stenobird.com/podcast/one-poem-only-7376622/aching-by-brittany-searle-kempaiah
Text version: https://stenobird.com/podcast/one-poem-only-7376622/aching-by-brittany-searle-kempaiah.md
Podcast: [One Poem Only](https://stenobird.com/podcast/one-poem-only-7376622)
Published: 2026-05-04T18:00:00+00:00
Episode link: https://one-poem-only.captivate.fm/episode/aching-by-brittany-searle-kempaiah
Audio file: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/episodes.captivate.fm/episode/1b6f5150-33b8-4f37-97c3-b468f484d7d7.mp3
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JSON: https://stenobird.com/v1/public/podcasts/one-poem-only-7376622/episodes/aching-by-brittany-searle-kempaiah
Duration seconds: 158

## Resource

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. Aching Brittany Searle Kempaiah Unexpectedly. There are moments I relish my arms being my arms again. And then, I ache for you. I ache for the way you once fit in the crux of them your head on my bare chest. I ache for those moments I dreaded your screaming. and the way it seemed to echo with accusations of my failure. I ache for the days I wondered what I had done with my life. and sat by your cot. Begging you to forgive me for wanting to be me again. I ache for your tiny brace I hated. The thin clothes and baggy pants that always seemed to draw eyes to us, accusing me of not being enough to heal you. I ache for your bald spot I tried to cover and the tiny milk peoples I feared were a sign of sensitive skin. The fear that your easily marked brown skin would scar and you would blame me for allowing your perfection to be blemished. I ache for your fumbling steps, your bruised head and scraped knees that made me fear you were somehow becoming too much like me. I ache for the bottles you wanted late at night. To hold you in the rocking chair and sing you back to sleep, without wishing it away. I ache. because I don’t really remember them. They are fragments and illustrated by ideas of memories. Feelings. Senses. Exhaustion. But I wasn’t really there. This is what I took from myself. Missing all our worst days meant missing all our best. And I will never be able to hold the tiny you again, and love you perfectly, I ache, and I ache. and I ache. More from Brittany Searle Kempaiah ↓ @brittanysearlekempaiahwords on Instagram She is currently working on three books: Waking Up in Darkness, a memoir about being diagnosed bi-polar while pregnant, Crossstich ,…

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## Transcript

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