The news struck her like a car careening on the sidewalk,
Things seemingly fine until the doc told her that life would come from her.
Immediately, fear became this unknown assailant stepping out of a dark alley,
bearing the consequences of a teenage pregnancy.
A warm tear falls down a face flush with a cold uncertainty on what to do next, so she cries. . . . . Calling her boyfriend and soon to be baby’s father with the fruits of unprotected sex,
hoping to find him supportive and even ecstatic about the child’s conception.
Her beckoning him with fatherhood was met with an icy reception,
denying their unborn with a dial tone, the many attempts at redialing without success.
Suddenly, the world got colder as she made her way home,
contemplating flight, but having nowhere to go.
Sitting at the kitchen table in a nervousness, thinking her heartbeat was
audible, waiting to drop the news hammer on her mom.
Didn’t notice the light wasn’t on,
but didn’t matter because darkness consumed her from the moment she
acted too soon and disfigured her wrist from knife wounds.
Heard muffled screams to God, felt a million hands slapping her face,
and all she could say in her mind is “I don’t want to die this way.”
A warming sensation dulled her anxiety as she gave in to unconsciousness,
not aware of her mom compressing her pain,
the ambulance taking her away,
the hospital staff rushing her to surgery,
hoping she’d make it.
Just the peace of nothingness, only waking to a lady shining a light in her eyes,
and the only thing she could ask was,
“Is my baby alright?”