empatheist

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Lovers

I read the word:

Lovers

and think

there will never

be space for me

I have for children

and nothing to spare

there will be

no midnight trysts

except to calm nightmares

no aphrodisiac

except frozen food

that's all I've time

to make

so they can eat

 

They made sure of this

I made sure of this

Did I make sure of this?  I'm not sure.

Those pro lifers

created an organization

of living

hell

motherhood is not a calling

 

It is a sentence

and you may

not survive

 

Constantly admonished

to think of blessing

to offer sacrifice

to die

to care for all

but one self

 

So I've decided

not to be

a mother

or a lover

or a maid

or a cook

or a chef

or a warrior, volunteer, go-getter, doer, be present-er, organizer,

better or worse

 

I'll just be me.

They will be they.

 

And little child

all one two three four

of you

At one three six seven

will see

your me

 

and we'll learn

to love

our selves

Together