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Literature Text
Unbirth
Terrifying screams,
echo through her head,
unbearable pain,
spreads from between her legs,
flesh peels away from itself,
separating the womb,
what was once a home for him,
has now become a tomb,
voiceless cries that go unheard,
from what was once alive,
before life was even tasted,
it was taken and he died,
given no chance by those,
upon whom he was dependant,
before his life could ever begin,
through their selfishness it was ended,
he was told no truths,
he was fed no lies,
as his body's disposed of,
she closes her eyes,
nothing more than waste now,
this is her third one,
but is it truly her right,
to kill her unborn son?
to take his life,
dispose of his soul,
did you love him?
did he know?
can you forget,
this one as well?
will you recognize him,
when you see him in hell?
Terrifying screams,
echo through her head,
unbearable pain,
spreads from between her legs,
flesh peels away from itself,
separating the womb,
what was once a home for him,
has now become a tomb,
voiceless cries that go unheard,
from what was once alive,
before life was even tasted,
it was taken and he died,
given no chance by those,
upon whom he was dependant,
before his life could ever begin,
through their selfishness it was ended,
he was told no truths,
he was fed no lies,
as his body's disposed of,
she closes her eyes,
nothing more than waste now,
this is her third one,
but is it truly her right,
to kill her unborn son?
to take his life,
dispose of his soul,
did you love him?
did he know?
can you forget,
this one as well?
will you recognize him,
when you see him in hell?
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Literature
UnBirth
It's one of the first things we learn to do. Right out of the womb, we instinctively react to the over-sensory assault of the world around us. We cry, of course. That's obvious. We have to. The sights, the sounds, the smells, even the new feeling of oxygen against our skins. It's all too much for us. We don't quite know what to do. It is there, stuck in awestruck wonder, too interested even to breath, that we learn our first real experience. If unassisted, we may just be caught up in it. We may never cry, never learn to breath. But, through our first strike of pain, we gain all there is to be given to us. We are given life, painful, tiresome,
Literature
Unbirth
Somethings burning deep inside me
I want to spread it
TRY AND STOP ME
Somethings growing deep inside me
I dont think I can control it
Somethings changing down inside me
I think I like it
Dont try and stop it
Somethings twisting deep inside me
I dont think I can deny it
I think Ive bided far too long
It feels too right to be wrong
TRY AND STOP ME
Im twisted and torn
Im coming undone
Im wicked and stricken
What have I become?
Crying inside
Taking your lie
My trust in unbirth
Is my wish to die
I know whats changing inside me
I want to use it
TRY AND ST
Literature
unbirth
unpretty and cold like all of the others
a face that reflects like hate in the water
the dress floats on the surface like litter in summer
carp and old flowers that perfumed the late air
i sucked in my lungs and lived
not breathing, but leaving
detesting; grieving
wishing for better but giving up easy
a few pounds of metal between all my teeth
i gave up my faith and lived
i made the conscious decision to tell that id go
breathe in the green; vacuum the snow
ten in a handful; four fists in a row
the shapes tasted like chalk and you didnt say no
i bit down on those circles and lived
leaving letters and numbers to read while im go
abortion - first off let me explain, i believe each person should be able to make their own choices, my problem comes from those who abuse the rights we've been given, enjoy.
© 2004 - 2024 Deklipz
Comments29
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Ouch, I felt that one. Good job.