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this is not An Abortion Poem

By: Arianne Bakelmun


of my womb

I did not create you.

Clawing your way into my warmth

Shattering my ribs

with the cavernous expanse of emptiness

Both our heads bowed,

shoulders curling into a space without center

just bleeding

ripping slowly over years endlessly feeding and birthing a dead thing.

Then, a sightless mouth.

Sucking on my breasts

Toothless as innocence and decay and violence

leaving bruises

but, red raw gums

can’t pierce my skin.

I NEED space

for my own gestations

My Baby screams, keens for my attention.

and soon, if no soothing comes,

will go quiet forever

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