[POETRY] Flickering Light
photo from thisismyabortion.com
By Alicia Bunyan-Sampson | @queenjsampson
[Trigger warning: this poem deals with the subject of abortion]
the man in the suit entered the cube.
there were four women standing naked against the brick walls
and a child dangling from the flickering light on the ceiling
he asked.
whose life is this?
‘ not mine ‘ the first women answered.
as she returned to him the small bits of happiness crumpled up in her pocket
she had stolen it from the smiling women next to her.
he asked
whose life is this?
the smiling women began to speak.
my love has always kept me trapped
trapped in my smiles
prisoner inside the empty walls of others
told daily that I would one day be touched.
what’s it like to be touched?
have you ever been touched before?
what does it feel like?
he asked
whose life is this?
the faceless women began to speak
when I had sex with him
i didn’t like it
she spoke slowly as she painted the floor with the blood pouring from her legs.
but I liked him
he made me laugh
and he thought I was pretty
and that
for me
was enough
I think after the first year
I learned to like some parts
how he kissed me
how attentive he was
he would always find new ways to make me feel special.
he asked
whose life is this?
the first women was mesmerized by the sleeping girl across from her
she was still in the beds they had given us
not moving
barley breathing
she wished she was her.
the sleep was the best part
forgetting
it was not what she had given or allowed them to take that haunted them
but the memory
and what it meant.
she was blissfully unaware of the punishment and shame she would receive for her choices.
punishment so severe that she would quickly regret a choice that she believed in so deeply.
he asked
whose life is this?
the faceless women began to speak again
special…
special means smart
special means more
special means prepared
so when my stomach began to grow
and I began to stumble
i did not feel special
so i had to terminate
and that is when the war began
the faceless women licked her fingers
i was now unclean
he hated me
and I hated me for making him hate me
we fell apart
slowly
this war was long.
he asked
whose life is this?
the child dangling from the flickering light stared intensely at the man in the suit
the man smiled and left the cube.
Alicia Bunyan Sampson | Core Writer
The Ride or Die Project 
One Response to “[POETRY] Flickering Light”
Wow,powerful.