Nascentes Morimur

Twenty-three chromosomes from my mother Twenty-three chromosomes from my father Already, I feel loved Three weeks now and my heart is beating My blood is pumping My brain is dividing into three primary sections Already, I am alive Four weeks now and my limbs are taking shape By five weeks I have my kidneys and external portions of the ear My hands and wrists are taking shape Already, I am partially developed Six weeks now and I have brain waves My heartbeat can be heard, and I can respond reflexively to stimulus Already, I have feelings By seven weeks I have fingers and toes to wiggle Knee joints are now present All of my organs are present by week eight and I am only one and half inches long I have breathing motions, my kidneys are producing urine, and my skin thickens Already, I will soon know if I am a boy or a girl By nine weeks my eyelids close, I can suck my thumb and swallow I’m grasping and responding to touch At ten weeks I now have fingernails and toenails, and my very own fingerprints Already, I have an identity But wait…something else is swimming in your stomach It’s making me starve and die Here I am born four hours later, but only six or seven weeks old Already, I am born and dead If only you would have let me live But wait…now at nine weeks there is a tube cutting me apart A machine is sucking me apart limb by limb This is the fad Already, I have experienced pain You should have let me live At sixteen weeks there is a large needle It’s poisoning me It’s dehydrating me, my brain is hemorrhaging My organs are failing and my skin is burnt The next day I am born…but not breathing Please let me live Now here…I am fourteen to twenty-three weeks old But there is a instrument twisting my arm off Now the other, and now my legs one by one My skull is now being crushed and no longer am I whole But in pieces If you would have just let me live I’m mostly developed now I now have a chance of surviving outside my mother Here I am being born, but feet first and face down Just the head left arms and legs squirming about But wait…no…blunt scissors are being put in the base of my skull The scissors are now spreading apart Something is being inserted into my skull My brain…it sucks my brain out until my head collapses Now I am fully born, but no longer squirming about Just still, not moving Already, I have felt hate Why didn’t you let me live? Written November 11, 2009