Bleed

I.
She wants nothing more
than to bleed,
This little life fluttering
insistently stubborn
within her.
It is,at best
a nuisance, a distraction,
An unfortunate circumstance
to be forced,flushed,scraped,sucked
OUT.
(By any means neccesary.)
One life ended
so one can go on,
One interrupted
so she can be
Uninterrupted.

II.
I am pleading with God,
making deals with Him
to stop this bleeding.
I find myself crouching
in my pristine white bathtub
watching clots, tissue,fragments of placenta
Slip silently out of me,
Lie forlornly beneath me
On cold porcelain.
I cannot look away
from tiny weavings of deep red veins
in grey-red amniotic sac.
And I weep.
I was ready for this life
to change everything,
And I welcomed that change....
Now it is lost.

III.
I cannot escape teh cruel irony-
She waiting to bleed,
I, wishing I never had.
I want to yell at her:
"Don't you see how LUCKY you are?!
I would trade places with you....
If I could."

I cannot hate her for this.
We take two seperate paths
and I cannot judge her
for not taking miine.

(But it still hurts like hell.)

One girl killing her child,
The other helpless to save hers.
I'm not sure which is the worst nightmare,
Which leaves the deepest scars,
Which leads to the most regret.

We are both,
In the end,
Just two mothers of lost angels.