at times

Feb 29, 2008 - 15:00 PM PST

24 years later, and a continent a part. I am never very far from my mother. And her legacy of sadness and worthlessness. Maybe I am worse.

You can take the baby out of the whore, you cannot take the whore out of the baby.

She sold herself to survive,
I sold myself to survive.
She sold herself for a dime, I sold myself for much less.
There isn’t even the courtesy lie of, “I love you”.
I slept with him because I did not love him. Did you do the same?
My period is late.
If I am, I do not want it.
She was and she did not want me.
She was illiterate and young, tried to give herself an abortion.
It’s ok mom, I understand the desperation.
I am older and educated, stupid stupid.
I’ve taken the morning after pill at 3 a.m. before, I know the desperation.
It’s always later, and I am ony comfortable at 4 a.m.
In the quiet reflection of the night before dawn, I smile weakly at the waitress serving me coffee.

And what I feel is shame,
What I feel is that I don’t want to have to tell my child that they were conceived out of indifference, that the idea of them was unwanted. I don’t want to tell them that their father had a girlfriend, a pregnant girlfriend. I don’t want to tell them that they were conceived in a car. I want more for them, I want them to know they are worth more than their beginning. They deserve the beginnings of being wanted, and planned, yearned for and sought out, a prize and not an accident. Conceieved out of love and worth, not sadness and self hatred. I did not think, and now that is all I can do.