deepundergroundpoetry.com

Running Out of Time

Sweat crested her brow as she pumped out her last moments of life, screaming and straining to give the being dwelling inside of her womb it's first breath. The clock was ticking, the doctor's hands went to work, explaining to the woman that she may not live, she was loosing blood fast and there wouldn't be enough time to save both her and her child. She knew this and still was willing to sacrifice her life for the infant that she would never get to know, asking her husband the new father to take care of their child the way that she would have wanted to raise her. And with the final push, and the child's first cry, her mother took her last gasping breath and closed her eyes. The clock that was that mother's life, stopped ticking as of the moment in time. The child was given to the father, who now was widower and a father all at once, overwhelmed he did not wish to hold his child and shunned it away from him.

He grieved for many days before he would hold the child, or even look at it. Looking upon it's golden eyes, he saw that she held her mother's eyes. She was all that his wife had left in this world, and he did not wish to touch it. Fear that it was a monster, it's life caused his wife's death.

And so it was not worthy of his love.

That child grew not knowing what love was,
and so she prefers to be alone.

I should know,
she is me.

The monster and the child,
I killed my mother
and brought shame on my father.

And so I live,
and shall
more than likely
die alone.