Abort

My stomach is growing

Like a bulging balloon.

It inflates with each month-

Ignoring my protests.

I watch my own body

With increasing disgust.

Each day I pray for blood emerge

Instead of this thing

That is already cursed.

It won’t stand a chance, not a hope to survive.

An empty heart, a dark soul,

With nowhere to run

And no one to love.

So all I can do

is ask God for his help

Take this thing from me

Before this devilish world

Swallows it whole.