Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The world was not prepared to meet me. My mother listened to soldiering footsteps; not to my inner cries. Ears were deafened, and hearts were clamped down on. I was conceived in double darkness; my fingers formed in midnight and stars. My father ran away without plans of coming back. My house was shattered inside my mother's womb. I fell away from earth like wings made of flesh, Fevered and forgotten. They sifted through my mother's body and did not find me. I was nothing but nothing died. I died in the deaths of many people. I died in many dyings.
0
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 5:58 AM UTC
The unborn
The world was not prepared to meet me. My mother listened to soldiering footsteps; not to my inner cries. Ears were deafened, and hearts were clamped down on. I was conceived in double darkness; my fingers formed in midnight and stars. My father ran away without plans of coming back. My house was shattered inside my mother's womb. I fell away from earth like wings made of flesh, Fevered and forgotten. They sifted through my mother's body and did not find me. I was nothing but nothing died. I died in the deaths of many people. I died in many dyings.
lisatokki
Written by
Manila, Philippines
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 5:58 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem