If we could be honest about motherhood
how many mothers would tell you
they were made one well before their time?
How many would tell you that postpartum depression doesn't have an expiry date?

My children,
they were not born from kindness
they were not born from loving men,
instead
trapped in a maze of lies and fear
six feet deep and 8 years long
it may have ended but
how long will it take to fade from my mind?

my children
are my world-
metaphorically and literally,
my days a repetition of the ones before and
I am overwhelmed, overstimulated,
alone, alone.
But these thoughts are not made to be heard
so I'll put a smile on my face
and pretend that everything is fine.