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With Child?

Corner

By Rowan Finley Published 2 years ago 1 min read
Photo taken by mikoto.raw Photographer on pexels.com

I can hide from some,

but a baby won’t stay small for long…

I confess to a long flowing dress,

inside, I feel like a mess.

He’ll stay with me now,

I’ve caught him now in my web.

They call me Mortisha,

as I strike with sticks and stones,

and words that I use,

or confuse the common meanings,

by reminding others of their delusion.

Dysfunction,

became my personality type,

but they’re all wrong… everyone else.

When this child is ripe and born,

will many see me with scorn?

Shall I be guilty or joyful?

Will this pregnancy turn on an easier door?

Or will I reside in the ER, the ICU, and on the OB floor?

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Rowan Finley

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

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Comments (3)

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  • Komal9 months ago

    The line “Dysfunction became my personality type” really lingers… it’s haunting!

  • Andrea Corwin 2 years ago

    arggh he is caught by a pregnancy? The baby may suffer the consequences.

  • Gosh that was so intense and scary, especially that last line! Loved your poem!

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