The Choice

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Whether intended or not
Two worlds collide.
And whether you feel me or not
The heart inside
Beats, it beats again and again
Growing, expanding, helpless to defend.

Defend, guard,
Protect, shield —
Verbs held in high esteem,
Refusing to yield
To the demands, the pressure, ever unending.
My protector’s resolve now seems to be bending.

“Accident” they call me,
Unwanted, wished away.
Not meant to be,
No invitation to stay.
“Potential,” “potential” is my new name —
I don’t matter yet. You and I aren’t the same.

Heart beating, brain thinking,
Buds forming, blood pumping,
Bones growing, ears hearing,
Eyes seeing, limbs jumping —

Heart stopping, flat-lining,
Bones crushing, life ending,
Limbs ripping, lungs bursting,
No one is defending.

Who will I be?
The world will never know.
To keep your choice alive,
My one choice had to go.
But pretend, pretend that I never was real —
Swallow the lies, hold it in, refuse to feel.

The body count rises
And “choice” limps along.
“It’s my right, it’s my right” —
The same unending song.
It plays, it wounds, it tears, it scars,
Boasting liberation behind invisible bars.

“It,” they call me —
I am an “it.”
A problem, a mass,
A blob to forget.
But you can’t, you won’t, you’ll never forget,
Because although I am gone you’re still left with regret.

Your choice, it’s your choice —
Your precious, precious choice.
Your choice that has silenced
My small silent voice.
But more than one life has ended inside —
The day my life ended a piece of you died.

The day my heart stopped, a part of you died.


If you or someone you know is hurting from a past abortion, know that there is healing. Contact a pregnancy resource center near you to get connected with an abortion recovery program.

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