Mother

Three less than eighteen, I

intervened between

the keen and the sly,

deceiving lies of a guy

who was supposed to

wrap me in his warm embrace,

said that destiny joined us in fate.

Unfortunately, he left us

high and dry. No heads up.

No text goodbye.

Just me and my occupied womb,

all alone in this cold room.

270 days I sang a tune of love,

hoped one day soon, you’d return.

Now, I was two less than eighteen,

spent the last eight months nursing

my wee human being.

Single, solo, uno, just me,

sixteen, trying to raise a baby,

alone and stranded.

How could you leave your first-born child

abandoned?

I was just a little girl,

caught up in a messed up world.

I loved you with no protection.

I ended up here with no protection.

Ended here with the misconception

that your love and affection

was always and forever.

You loved what was between my legs,

filled my head,

mislead me to think

“You loved me.”

By Shanekra