Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
(cira December 22nd, 1996)

Abby tested positive, (sans colonized)
with clusters of Group B streptococcus
(GBS, a type of bacterial infection found
within ****** and/or ******) undergoing
routine prenatal examinations during third
trimester of pregnancy with (Eden),

which intent toward natural childbirth delivery
preparations came to screeching halt, cuz said
harmful naturally existing toxic secretions
(detected within about 25% of all healthy,
adult women), thus midwives at Bryn Mawr

Birthing Center could no longer countenance
(against good interdenominational faithful con
science and any impending lawsuits) assist with
timely delivery starkly aware of serious adverse
risks via incumbent natural birth.
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
Hence sea change
     immediately adopted
     pitting mum blame
ming discombobulation
     as she scuttled
     linkedin with intravenous tubes game
lee crossing Township Line Road
     (all the while,

     her body shored up lame
basted with necessary intravenous sustaining
     nutriment fluids none
     of which I could name
awaiting to be wheeled into sterile
     antiseptic hospital prenatal
     ward, where shame
     enveloped descended,

     where questions addressed
     to fly by night doctor
brushed away unlike
     storybook television medics,
     where real life hectic frenzy all hustle
     and abustle becalm temporarily tame
when cameo appearance
     of Doctor Do Little rushed into fray
(hastening onset of cervical dilation to grow

     so he could, return as an ordinary Joe
     to his interrupted round golf
     with Trump at Mar-a-Lago)
when labor pains
     did not start less or mo
(at the convenience
     of obstetrician), a no

name generic brand hailed
     from "doc" side of the moon oh
most without consensus,
     hestarted "mother"
     on an IV infusion poe
shun of oxytocin
     (brand name Pitocin),
     which agitation provoked

     roil (royal) row
her disposition to
     high blood pressure
     quieted by attendant
     mid wives beaming
     at "starry eyed student,"
     who uttered whoa
Already daughter wasted

     no time lambasting us
     newly minted parents for intervening,
     sans natural status quo
     versus surrendering "scheduled birth"
before launching into
     the peroration slow

wing enunciation (something
     about Dorothy and
     the wizard of Id) in toto
of a lengthy excoriating speech, she rehearsed
     while she bobbed around in utero
     like ma's yoyo.

The departure from maternity ward
back to Pennfield Manor Apartments
     of Hatfield, Pennsylvania
appeared (hyperbole understated)
     as a double edged sword,
an ill fitting car seat
     generating highest decibels
screaming (do nut under estimate
     the lungs of a newborn)
whom this papa being hard
of hearing now, thereafter
     hitherto known as
     the pantomiming bard.
Sky Jul 2018
everything hurts

the throbbing in my chest is from
the city i loved,
the city i swallowed

the pounding in my veins is from
the race against the very crowd
i spilled myself into

the numbness of my mind is from
the ticking clock and tapping heel
and murmuring and pulsating,

the living, breathing, and the dying
all tapping their watches in perfect
unison, like everything you've ever seen
and more

...

the taka taka tak of the train,
is jagged against my sides

i keel over at the altar as the
train approaches the station

and still,
thank God!

everything hurts

i must still be alive
a whole mood
Laura Jul 2018
Some people don't realize how much you cry when you throw up
How much you shake
How much your nose runs

Nobody likes to throw up
You feel like a ******* kid
With snot and bile dripping everywhere over the toilet
And your hands clenched to the bowl
Desperate for it to hold you back
And tell you you'll be alright

But I do it every day
Every ******* day
Because I can't afford
A lifetime on the hips

So I find my place on the floor
The place where I spread my towel
In order to make the cold, hard ground
Just a little more forgiving
I have toilet paper ready to wipe my mouth and nose
Because **** gets messy after the first retch of regret

But once it's all over,
You can't just tell people,
"I threw up everything I ate today."
You have to keep going
Like nothing ******* happened
Because otherwise they flock over you
And don't let you do it anymore
Aaron Layton Jul 2018
Where have I been and what have I done?
My shoulders seem to weigh a ton.
Why am I here and when will it end?
Where is everyone I called friend.
Can anyone save me?
To help these thoughts in my head be free.
Is it possible to run from yourself?
To push back these feeling people dealt.
When will my voice be amplified?
Over this mass mental genocide.
When will they notice our plea’s?
Our plea for help that's sent across oceans and seas.
How can we let these deaths go unjustified?
This topic must stop being brushed aside.
Why do 105 people a day have to die?
To dream, fall, crash, then suicide.
Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255.
Crisis text Line: text START to 741-741
Senlo Jul 2018
I hope you know that you are loved
And when you feel low
you are still above
the darkness and your demons
Promise me you won't give up
you are needed
This goes out to my aunt that took her life
To the ones contemplating death day and night
questioning your existence
the thoughts are now consistent
i hope you know that the world would notice if you went missing
You are the only you on this earth
Yes there are stronger boys and there are prettier girls
There are people wealthy and unhappy
And there are people poor that smile with no teeth
You can make it out of this ditch
i mean if you wish
Because who am i to tell you to stay alive
To tell you that you need to exist
To tell you that you have a purose
Your life with flourish
love yourself from within
and soon people will see this bright light in you that was once dim
I hope you stay alive
not for her, not for them, not for that, not for him, not for this but for you.
Please love yourself & and If you can't, then I will.
Payton Patterson Jul 2018
I am
Somewhere
In between
Sitting on
Top of the world
And
Floating
Helplessly
Into the abyss.
Wilting erratic flesh
Digging into the earth
Whiskey dreams on a adderall tongue
Imprisoned, behind the air I hide
Trembling chest, purchased from the waste side
Next page