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birthing

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birthing

a poem

i often wonder if my kids will be
born with these thick thorns breaking
through their chest cavities or spike
coating their brains the way i did.

or will they grow them later in life?

i wonder if my mama and
daddy knew that they'd give me
their thorns and these wretched spikes. if they
knew of the sadness and sleepless nights
it would take to nourish these thorns and spikes.
or the fight it would take just to maintain it all.

because that's all i can think about.

⬰—————⊝


you can read the full poem and other
proses on my medium blog: wetnsticky

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