i wish that i was never born.
i’m sorry,
but it’s true!
no actually!
i never wanted to come out of my mother’s womb;
she had to be induced.
i was supposed to be born february 14, 2001.
valentine’s day;
the day of love.
i was born 8 days late on february 22.
8 days.
hate days.
maybe i already had too much hate
running through my veins.
too much hate to be born on valentine’s day.
maybe i didn’t want to be born
because i knew that pregnancy
was the closest my mom and i would ever get.
we definitely started out on the wrong foot.
you see,
the first thing i ever tasted was blood
gushing out of my mother’s breast.
i craved sweet, maternal milk,
but she only had blood to give.
(she couldn’t produce any milk).
i still tried
to suck her dry.
i latched onto her breast right away.
i guess i was hungry.
for her milk?
or for her love?
i swallowed her blood
and gagged it back up.
she couldn’t feed me.
she tried her best.
it wasn’t her fault.
just unlucky circumstances i guess.
they fed me with formula instead.
growing up,
my mother gave me all the love she had left,
but i was still starving.
she tried her best.
it wasn’t her fault.
just unlucky circumstances i guess.
so i tried to feed myself
with broken people
and abusive men.
i was still starving.
it’s common for a mother and her daughter
to have a complex relationship.
maybe it’s because the daughter
reminds her mother
of everything she isn’t
or maybe it’s because the mother
envies her daughter
for the girlhood she so very misses;
in my mother’s case,
the girlhood she never got,
but so dearly deserved.
i wish we could have been girls together.
i hated being a girl.
i wanted to be a boy.
my parents thought i was going to be a boy.
they named me stephen,
after my late grandfather.
stephanie’s close enough.
i wanted to opt out of girlhood.
i’ll trade my a for an e
and give away the ie for free.
i swear i’m not like my mom
or any other girl.
i’m different.
i reject womanhood;
i deserve personhood.
i hate the fact that i’ll always be
a woman
before a human;
a man’s rib
instead of dust.
unfortunately,
even though i tried to deny it
for many years,
i’m no different
than my mother
or any other girl.
i’m just a woman.
my first home was my mother’s womb.
i rejected her too soon.
i wanted to be just like my dad.
i wish i could take it all back.
i’m sorry mom,
but sometimes i wish i was never born.
not because i want to die,
but because i miss when you were my home.
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