A look at abortion and what we don't see look back...from the POV of the unborn |
There you sit mother, pristine as a white candle in the afterglow of morning, the scent of your grandmother's lilac perfume in angelic nimbus lofts around you like a dove on the dawn, out of place in the brick ally underworld you brought us to. You were daddy's little princess with your tarnished tin crown; Your little Prada shoes; Your highbrow attention to details. Save for one. Nothing you did was ever wrong. Trained by broken and bleeding bruises that swelled on your cheek like a hot burst of flame erupting from the tar like sting in the sweltering summer heat. Daddy wouldn't have it. Daddy wouldn't have me. A beauty pageant patriot waving your father's flag in the air, You loved him. You served him your willing soul like French cusine. Everyone loves daddy dearest don't they? But not as much as you did. The air in the dark ally now swirls around your ankles; what a charmingly eloquent maypole of deception you are. You know no one will understand what you're willing to do to hang onto your father's affections, torquing yourself like a drunken eel obsessed with the static of water. But I know. I'd do the same for you. You take a deep breath as you march us into the cold tiled room and lay yourself out like a buffet to be picked at and carved apart. You should remember this from the kitchen, mother. The clock clicks around with all of its gears fighting to hold on for another second before it ticks and passes. It has my sympathies. You fight back your brave little tears, a soldier sacrificing for the team, for the name of all good society. All for the dark wishes of a sycophant using your love as a satire like an enthroned geisha. Take a good look at the burning overhead light It will be the last thing we both see before we go. The icy metal forks are now prodding at my back Trying to rend me from the only one I love. You'd make yourself forget this like a goldfish living detached of memory. You'd tear my beating heart from yours with the dead hands of a stranger as I claw to stay inside. Come see how this feels. Know the aching of watching your life slip transparently like a shadow sinking in dust; from being denied from the one you try to hang on for. You didn't think I was going alone did you? _____EyeKahn_____ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |