No Bravado
She had never seen a real torture,
picture a gentle breeze entering,
the walls were smooth and white,
and the old rule was ignored,
to terrify
you need to look terrifying.
She felt her face collapse
into surprise,
her legs parted,
and there was no bravado,
sterilized instruments used.
There were tables with straps,
all clean, and nothing to redeem,
but she still didn't know what it meant
until the doctor stared at her,
offering her a chance to vent.
She stared back steadily,
torture ran through her mind,
but how?
The room was clean and disinfected.
" Your First Abortion?"
My first torture
replied the soul of the fetus.
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