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God's Own
On a sweltering humid July morning,
she was escorted by her best friend
as they walked through whispered prayers
into a beige brick one story building.
She laid on a padded table in a cool
gray room.
She didn't want this,
she felt coerced-
in youthful vulnerability she obeyed
her abandoning boyfriend.
Her goosebumps rose as she waited
in a mint-green cotton gown,
her shallow breath in and out,
her mouth and throat parched.
She looked up at overhead glaring
lights,
God's own.
She felt she just couldn't tell
her Mom,
the words wouldn't come forth,
a searing secret bitter on her tongue.
Fragments of jagged thoughts cutting
her psyche,
She was sweating cold through her
forehead.
The abortionist was as if an
anonymous shadow,
his voice distant,
flashes of kindergarten in her
eighteen year old's mind.
Waves of utter pain,
her heart pounding,
her ears thunderous with throbbing,
a sudden stillness,
God's own-
another of God's own,
returned to Him. ~
Copyright ©
Regina Elliott
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