When do you reject the child?
When she is born, her dark hair spiraling
First cries brimming out into a hazy, too-bright room
Or when she is messy with her mourning
In a body that’s no longer hers
Crippled in the hands of someone that she thought she loved.
When do you reject the child?
When she is knocking at your door
Hungry, hopeful, seeking refuge in the night
Lacking liberty, but begging for your luck
Or when she lies there broken
A victim of the monsters in the night
That steal her skin and say, this body is now mine.
Do you only love her when she’s safe from you?
When she’s curled inside a womb and out of sight and out of mind?
You must—
Because you never fought for her after
Forgotten, she grows unheard despite the volume of her voice.
And, despite the volume of her voice,
Your silence is the loudest sound of all.
The Wild Heart of Life 
Powerful and heartfelt, Shaylene. How we lie to ourselves that the fetus “curled inside the womb” matters when we have no regard for her once she sees the light of our uncaring world.
LikeLike
as per kevin cronin golden country
LikeLike
A very powerful poem, well done.
Only heeded when she’s “safe from you” in the yet un-life. Loved more as an idea than as any reality. How does one live up (down?) to a figment?
LikeLiked by 1 person
The insanity just keeps coming. 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a beautiful piece
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! This is incredibly powerful. Your words are deeply felt. 💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤
LikeLiked by 1 person