how differently would you treat me
if you discovered
i was the product of ****?

should i believe
that i really made
the abortion escape?

i don't know the seed that planted me.
neither the soil.

but i was born.
i am living. i am
definitely real.

was it a date? a one-night stand?
the curiosity starts to thicken.
a fling? an experiment? with a boy and a girl –
at fifteen years-old? a king – and his mistress?
was it Winnie Hollman – and Jack Nicholson?
maybe satan on hallow's eve. it was october
when i was conceived.

eliminating a baby is crippling
to the mother. it's hardening
to the heart. it's parting
from the start. never
saying hello.
never seeing
your star glow. oh man...

i don't know.

i must have whispered inside the tunnels within.
it's not the end.
—end.
i'm not finished.
—finished.
the echo made it's way.
—it's mark. in the dark.
the light.

a spark.

there's never a right time
to say good bye. but when
we know. we gotta go.
and stray our own way.

just to make sense of this.
whether we know what it is.
people do it all the time. people
doing what's right. why do we fight
the truth. a choice saved my life.

i am living proof.

i just want to stare at you.
and compare you to
what i see in the mirror.

the fear would subside.
many questions arise.
only one answer resides.

real is what you made me.
my life is what you gave me.

so to you
i give all my gratitude.
thank you.