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The Weight of Past Choices

In the quiet spaces between
My panting breaths,
I hear echoes of the child
I once was.

I cling to the body
Of a man I barely know,
Trying to fill the emptiness
Left by another.

Men visit my most private place
But never know me.
Our room is filled with the
Steady rhythm of our lust
Clapping, clapping again and again
Like the applause of one lonely.

The sounds of our flesh
Bring back the weight
Of past choices made
In the glance of an eye,
A shared smile,
Or a groping hand.
Written by Nizana (Lauryn)
Published
Author's Note
Thoughts about recent affairs as I approach my abortion.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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