A Uterus Nightmare

Not an adult. Not a child, Not really a teenager anymore either. I’m somewhere in between Barbie dolls And taxes. Not an adult But apparently enough of one Because the moment I became capable of carrying a human, I became- Human. But not really. Only sort of, When it’s convenient for you. Not an adult, But old enough to have children. Not that I want to, Not that I plan on having them, But that’s all anyone seems to care about anymore. The fact that they know That I know That they know I can get pregnant. I’m not interested in my uterus being a train depot For anyone and everyone to flow through Whenever they please Because they know that’s what I’m made for. It doesn’t matter if you believe My body was created to create- I don’t want to. I don’t exist to bear your progeny. I am not less of a person Because I have an unused uterus. 1/3/18