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ElEschew Sep 5
Hello little blueberry
I see you
I never thought I'd meet you
Yet here you are
And
There you go
To someone else's arms
My little blueberry
Mine.
No longer mine
Custody I failed to take
I'll love you from afar
thank god
I know who you are
Liz Carlson Jul 18
dear one,
my heart breaks at the thought of you.
you deserved to live,
but that right was taken away from you.
God made you to become something, someone great.

I know you're safe in Heaven,
but I still see your life being taken away so vividly and painfully.
I'm sorry, dear one.

I wish I could have done something,
but your mom's mind was set.
maybe she was scared or felt stuck,
maybe she felt like there wasn't another option.

still,
your life is now gone.
all you could have been is gone.

you never got to experience all the joys and pains of life.
you never got to speak your first word, see your first sunset, graduate high school, go on your first date, get married, or have your own family.

i'm so sorry, dear one.
my heart aches for all you could've been.
i love you,
sweet one.
cfw Jul 8
You bring me tears of joy
and tears of sadness,
but old memories is something I will always enjoy.
We are sorry for being reckless.

I would not feel this emptiness,
If only I were not acting coy.
Losing you made me feel worthless,
but we promise that, one day, you will smile with overjoy.
I'm sorry. We promise to make it up to you one day, by giving you a lovable younger sibling
Nigdaw Jun 19
I will flower like an orchid
In the forest,
Beautifully alone;
With only the sky to see my colour
The trees to call my home.
When I die, no one will cry
At the passing of my beauty;
As petals fade and leaves shrivel,
I will return to whence I came
Leaving the world unaltered.
Absolute abomination is abortion
Betraying baby bodies ending up brutally Buried
Concluding a life currently forming
Death all up in your stomach
Energy draining decision, a life ending before a beginning
Fetus fates determined by lawmakers lacking empathy
God crying at the death of his creation
How will you feel when you face the face of those you aborted
Ignorance made you feel important
Judges slam hammers making decisions to determine the value of a fetus
Killing innocent humans not thinking about their futures
Life feels pain as those we let go still live within  
Mistakes made should never end up in blood
No one will know you tell yourselves, but God knows all
Opportunities oppressed, always end up leaving you depressed  
Pain within makes you go insane, nightmares of old scars
Quite homes, cold hearts, broken souls of bodies that were torn apart
Raw emotions of killers live in their insecurity, just listen closely  
Silence entertains the minds which live in regret from taking lives
Tomorrows full of sorrows
Unmatched emotions with lovers that went astray
Value life and life will value you
Weapons forged in your feeble mind tell you to fight for your rights
X-rays of broken hearts hidden behind broken bones
You played God, you killed to avoid pain, now your soul dies hard  
Zest for life diminished as sorrow takes charge
Lewis Irwin Jun 5
As she lays down in a state of bliss,
It's only after the reality hits.
She's harbouring life inside where her demons resides,
She can't afford but she won't abort; she will save a life.

What is life if happiness isn't part of the equation?
How do we validate and justify our questions and frustrations.
Is allowing life saving life? Because in happiness life resides,
She can't afford but she won't abort; she will save a life.

She's now a Mother of some standard,
Equivocally she tries and **** those demons inside her.
Her daughter finds no joy in the mother who's smile lays no happiness,
Her laugh croaked with the remanence of a pied piper.
With no food or knowledge to consume she will surely be laid to doom,
Because her Mother died as the demon who consumed her wore her skin like a prize.

Giving life isn't saving life,
Because happiness is where life resides.
Julian Delia May 25
I demand to make my choices.
We are here to raise our voices.
These irreversible changes are locking us in cages;
These are real, life-or-death issues.
This is no show, and these lives are no Broadway stages.

Let's talk about decisions;
Let's put aside biased visions.
Let’s talk about who makes these decisions;
I’m looking at you, old white dudes in boardrooms.
Last time you took a class in ***-ed,
Gatsby and Daisy were just about this close to being bride and groom.

Let's talk about consent;
Let's use this space to vent.
Let’s talk about who has the right to judge;
I’m looking at you, anti-abortion crusaders.
Feeling threatened by strong women and their placards and posters,
Like they’ve got pistols in their uterine holsters,
Like they’re all daughters of the dark forces of Darth Vader.

Why do we insist on going to war with each other?
More importantly,
Why does our ****** education,
The root of this problem,
The rotten core of this issue -
Why does our ****** education **** so much?

Why do we talk about choice for a woman instead of the choice of men to respect a woman in the first place?

Why are we still debating?
Grown men telling women to listen,
It's absolutely infuriating!
Let's fight for rights and quit the hating.

Women are resorting to desperate measures,
Whilst men walk away with fulfilled pleasures.
I adopt this tone gravely;
Women are jeopardising their safety, daily.

Is a living woman worth less than an unborn baby?
A poem I wrote with a comrade and a good friend, for an open mic event titled 'Verses for Choice'. The event was hosted and organised by the Pro-Choice Coalition in Malta.
Mary Velarde May 19
A.
So often are women branded
with a scarlet letter
the moment they learn
the definition of the word ‘choice’.
So often is dissent catapulted out of crooked teeth
and whose twisted tongues belong
nowhere close to the temple
that is our bodies
in which we are the god.
The valley of our chest,
ripe with liberty;
a womb like an unmapped terrain
you cannot navigate through
for one cannot simply trudge
a course he knows nothing about.
Our vulnerability is not a curse,
it is our compass;
and your preference versus our worth
makes your jaw grow soft
like how you prefer our nails untainted with red
or our hair longer than short
or our feet glued to the marbled tiles
of the kitchen floor
or laws forged to protect anything
but us —
it looks a lot like silence.

You do not get to weep
for what i choose to lose
in order to not lose myself.
You do not get to dress
your iron fist
with empathy
that is only ever in its loudest,
when it is the emptiest.
Egg May 17
It is 1973, the U.S. Supreme court ruled in favor
of a woman's right to choose.

It is 2000 and my mother chooses me.
I am born with ten fingers and ten toes
and though I remember nothing,
she remembers it all.

It is 2001 and terrorism reeks havoc and death
on the United States
and Americans are reinvigorated
with a new kind of hatred for foreigners and immigrants.

It is 2009 and my parents divorce
and I meet a man
that makes me afraid to live in my own home.
Because he lives there as well.
And though, he never touches me
he talks to me
like I am nothing
and he is the sun
and there a hiccups of time
when I believe him.

Things I was not supposed to worry about.

It is 2014 and I read about Roe v. Wade for the first time
in my 9th grade history textbook,
I thought that my generation
would not have to worry about these things.
That some other brave women had paved the way
toward my right to choose what happened to my body.
Funny
how some of my other peers never had to come to that revelation.
Funny
how we learn in silence.

It is 2015.
I work in a bar, behind the scenes
flipping burgers and cleaning toilets
but everyone still knows my name
and some people still throw their arms around me
and hold on too tight
and touch me in sly inappropriate glimpses

It is 2015,
and I have learned to grin and bear it
and never say a word.
Because there are things a woman puts up with
for the sake of a job.

It is 2015 and in my personal finance class
a teacher projects a chart of a wage gap,
chalks up the hundreds of thousands of dollars
in differential pay
to maternal leave.
And I wonder if he ever smiled through a man
more than three times his age,
with a hand on his ***
without saying a thing.

these are things we were not supposed to worry about

It is 2018 and my mother asks me how I sleep at night
knowing I litter my facebook timeline with
pro-choice propaganda.
How I could think that I might know anything about my own body
and life and needs
because I haven't had children.
Because my thoughts, desires, obligations, and dreams,
my validity as a **** human being
and as a woman
means nothing without bearing a child.

It is 2018 and I have been using a birth control pill
for three months
I put on ten pounds
I am emotional
I hate myself
and I cry constantly
Sometimes my stomach cramps until I throw-up,
but I know that I need to get used to birth control
that one day, and probably soon
I'll need it.

It's 2018, and I've been active for months,
I never miss a pill
I do everything right
my routine is a well-oiled machine
I use other methods as back-up even though it isn't cheap
I've been using a period tracking app for months
and it is never wrong.
But soon I'm five days late for my period
and awake till 3 am believing that my life is over
I'm supposed to go to college in a month,
I'm supposed to be responsible
How could I be so stupid?
How could I be so irresponsible?
My period is seven days late, but it comes while I'm working
and I bleed through my clothes.
I'm a bartender now, so I tie a sweatshirt around my waist
until my mother brings me what I need.
I want to cry out in relief
and I wonder why I suffered in silence,
and might have been punished alone
even though my crimes were aided and abetted.

It is 2019 and 19 states are pushing new
intrusive abortion restrictions and "heartbeat bills"
and women protest in blood red robes and white bonnets
that hide their faces and their person-hoods
that are being degraded
in favor of the person-hood of a pea.

It is 2019, and though it is not the first time,
I feel scared to be a woman.

These are the things we were not supposed to worry about.
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