Litkicks Message Board Archive

my abortion

Posted to Action Poetry




i was relieved.
feeling the numbing
between my legs
being told of the sounds,
the movement --
told not to be nervous,
afraid.
asked,
had i been told my options?
jesus lord,
i was relieved.
blood would flow for days.
days
and
days.
i would be thankful for every single drop.
when i felt the life
i'd destroyed
three days prior
making me vomit,
making me a zombie
i talked to it,
told it this was not the time.
i remember,
god if i could tell you,
the chase of my mother's hand
under the dining room table,
"you bitch! you little horny bitch!"
all i wanted
was relief.
money
and relief.
so there i laid
on a surprising white bed
my hand held
by a woman named
ellen.
she was a good narrator
to the story that was drama
mixed with such ridiculous horror.
if there hadn't been ellen,
if there hadn't been emma goldman
i'd have killed myself
and taken that life with me.
i felt utterly safe relief.
he didn't love me anymore anyway.
i knew i was throwing it all away.
there'd be no more love.
it would never be the same.
i would be the masked murderer,
he would be the pining father.
there i was,
on my back again,
wondering what my life would be.
would i recover?
would i ever feel whole?
would this relief
be the guilt
of the life
i'd now made the choice to live?
all i felt
was comfort,
relief,
breath in my lungs
for the first time in months.
i remember it was a tuesday
the following day,
and i wasn't sick.
i felt such overwhelming guilt
for being happy i wasn't heaving.
it's been eight years
and i drive by the clinic
once a week
and see the protesters
and wonder,
what if they were me?
what if i were them?
and then that relief washes over me again
and i drive by
comforted by the walls
of that quiet building,
comforted by the girl i once was,
comforted,
relieved
and
comforted.