deepundergroundpoetry.com

aborted soul

I imagine what you would have looked like.
I picture you in the faces that pass me by.
I bet you were gonna inherit your fathers deep brown eyes and my sultry smile.
You would have been beautiful.
I could have loved you.
My heart was hardened while the pain and bitterness that overwhelms me poisoned my placenta possibly corrupting you.
I could not bear a Bastard child,
but I could have loved you.
The chance of a miscarriage was far greater than that of a marriage.
I was afraid that I would blame you for our mistakes that resulted in the tarnished ruins of our relationship.
You would have been a daily reminder.
But still, I could have loved you.
Remorse permeates my heart.
I won't look at my own reflection for fear that I'd be reminded of your existence.
And though you had not yet a heartbeat, your life began at conception.
I could have loved you.
I was not entitled to take your life.
The angst eats away at my conscience.
I jeopardized my beliefs to salvage my own self.
I try to justify it.
I wasn't ready.
I could not provide for you.
I could not protect you.
I could not make your father love you.
I did not deserve you.
I could not spend eighteen years of my life caring for you.

Instead, I will spend the rest of my life weeping for an aborted soul.

I could have loved you.