miscarriage, misunderstoodA Poem by AlprisYou see this lady here? some would call her my mother others might call her my aunty i even knew someone who thought she was my grandma funnily enough, i call her none of those things. when her water broke, people thought it was part of the plan but the truth is, well you see, when i was inside her a little spermie came and whispered in my ear; it told me about my father and his mouse-s**t eyes and i cried, and cried, and cried that's why her water broke and i hope it hurt, too. now i wish, in my recovery position cage, i had chewed the walls of her stomach to a bellied red sea of refuge she would spew ruthless faucetted crimsons, and people would call that a miscarriage you see, when i was still unborn i had a chance to escape the gloves that urged my first blink what chance do i have now but to wait wait wait see, the moon rising is a sin the night is grey and insecure if you look to me, i might sell some light... but i assumed i'd never cry again © 2012 Alpris |
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Added on August 13, 2012 Last Updated on August 13, 2012 |

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