Family

I close my eyes are read the words you said to her, how you said she looked beautiful today. That you’re her family now.

I think of the womb I carried 4 of your children in. You within my body. The heart beats of your genetic makeup as close to my own heart, we could be one. Family.

Then you gave her womb your flesh and blood and I found myself in the midst of a hatred I didn’t know possible.

What is the word for a hate in its purest form?

You’re her family now.

And I am but a memory you are choosing to bury between her legs. Do you think of me when you think of the child she bares? Do you see her stomach and remember my swollen mid section full of life. Love. Family.

I wonder.

My wandering mind never stops replaying these thoughts and your words to her.

I read poetry and run across her name and bile fills my mouth, I swallow it back down and force myself to feel the pain as it stings in throat.

Her womb is now empty, lifeless.

I know the pain of losing a child.

I am not without sin though.

I feel no pity, nor guilt for my lack there of.

Yet,

She is still family.

Engraved in my brain. Words I cannot forget.