Intoxicated by the blood on your sleeve

I can't look away at what a frightening scene

you've clearly conceived.

Abortion wasn't necessary when your ovaries spit out

what may as well be your deadly diseases,

all spreading their reasons of treason,

attacking not only themselves

but everyone else within five feet of retreating,

more deadly than death,

a poisonous threat,

constantly creeping,

after years of mind numbing weeping

we're finally seeing the long term effects

of needing yet not receiving the love and attention

each needle was given instead,

a full lasting life

that once completed

offered itself up for a chance to be needed

while we helplessly pleaded for that chance to trade places,

what we wouldn't give for the same look on your face that you made

when it was your alone time,

 

"kids run off and play, mommy will be right here, just stay out of my fucking face while I listen to the whispering demons in my ear."  

 

"Steer clear of those brats, they don't understand your suffering, they don't give a damn for your tears!"

 

And we play and we play 'till the sun goes away,

lying in bed,

no melodies sung,

no bedtime stories are said,

we simply close our eyes

hungry and tired

and drift into innocent peace.