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,
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.