To:My thoughts in the middle of the night

A choice

Dear forgotten,
I have never met you nor will I ever meet you. Because you are dead. You are dead because of the fighting that women have gone through over the past hundreds of years. You are gone and I am glad you are. Without you I never would have exsisted. People will wonder what your life would have been like but I don't morn you. I celebrate you. You were a choice that a woman made? And women do not get many choices. I want to be able to make that choice in my future. Something about you makes me feel like I have power. You are my non exsistent brothers and sisters. The one procedure of pain that our mother went through that prevented her from being a mother. The procedure many women go through weather in a certified doctors office or with a hanger in a dingy basement.
Our mother made a choice that I might not be lucky enough to make in the future. My choice and voice has been lowered slightly. I no longer have a paper megaphone with me while I stand on my milk box. All I have is the volume I can shout with my own voice and I will use it to the very last word. To tell people of you, and why you should be gone. To remind people of the lives saved by yours being gone. Because you were never a life, you were a collection of cells inside of a person. A person who did already have a life and a future to think of. Many may say "They have a heartbeat already!" or "That could be the person to cure cancer!" But you would never amount to that.
You are just a cluster of cells inside a person who could cure cancer but wouldn't have the chance because she grew you. Not many people bring up the argument that you are stopping someone's life. Putting someone who already has a life's future in jeopardy. I'm here to say that for them.
Dear the forgotten, thank you for not exsisting. You will never see this because you were just a clump of cells. And to those who do. Remember the forgotten were never remembered.
From,
The living