He told me nothing was the matter.
“Shhh baby, nothing is the matter”
Four words that seemed to shatter
Every waking bone in my body.
He said, “Oh, you’re just overreacting,”
Stressing about the little things.
He said it would be alright after two,
Maybe three weeks went by.
And I began to get sick.
As if I was just making it up,
Pretending to act like someone has
Exhumed all the life out of me to the
Point that I could no longer stand.
A lifeless being wandering endlessly
In search of the unknown.
As if I just wanted to throw up every single day.
Using my sickness as a means to stay
Close to him
Giving away fluids that sustained my life to
Make room for another.
A makeshift teenage mother
He did not want to believe it.
No, he did not believe it.
He had not conceived it,
He would be naïve then
“shh nothing is the matter”
About a month into, laying on top of me,
He still refused to believe.
He said that everything would be okay.
Anything to get in, get out and go
Like self service gas station, serving himself
Gasing this station, and complaining that the
Cost is always too high
But conceiving a child is not like buying a car and
Then dropping it off to a service station
Or selling it back, or taking it to the dump
Pumping the gas, letting me plump,
Leaving me, classic dump
He lay on top of me and I saw the blood,
Blood that a woman should not be bleeding.
Blood as dark and red as the night sky,
Empty of the light stars give.
Blood of another.
Blood of his other.
He will not believe
That you are buried somewhere in
The Houston sewage system
Wondering why your mother abandoned you
Why did she let go slip away.
He will not believe that
I wanted you, that I have to
Show your brothers and sisters
Photographs of where you should be,
In my arms
He had reached into my stomach
And taken it away by disbelief.
And I lay there, truth exposed for all to see.
Two tests would not even set me free,
But how could they?
After it is gone, up into the heavens,
Maybe where it belonged.
And he still does not believe.
