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The Defiance of Self

Born in the midst of unspeakable pain,

Created in the throws of passion.

Tiny, red, wrinkled thing,

Shrieking its indignation.


Useless after a parasitic nine months of


Its first act is to take.

Once again leeching its strength from its

Maternal host. Who

Is bound to this creature for years.

For life.

Food from her body.

Hours from her sleep.

Servile acts of devotion amidst

Depressing fluctuations of chemicals

And hormones.


This banal bondage,

Of body and mind

And heart.


This resignation of individual



This screaming insult to the

Feminist battle cry.


This baby.


This mother.


This satisfaction of the primordial urge.


La beauté indescriptible de l'amour d'une mère.

November 16, 2015