Halls of the Dark Muse

Infertile Wishes

The world is carved
unfair with a taste of
bitter irony,
cynically
we can only but laugh
if we wish to stay sane.

This "gift"
as other's would have it,
so neatly coveted
among those cruelly denied,
while I look in disdain
and squander it
without gratitude
for the condition.

What they remorse in
gladly I would
bear their unnatural
naturalness
the dead inside,
which for me
would mean
a simple convenience
and a preferable
state of things.

For all the useless
surgeries which have been
conceived
for mere purposes of vanity,
I would happily
give up my womb
to another in exchange
for one that does not produce.

To sit there dead inside me,
what others may dread
I should be quite
contended with.

I have no need for
ovulation,
it is but a burden to me,
give me instead
empty silence,
dark hallow chambers,
while another
desirous of the sacred right
of motherhood
denied by nature
might instead take of mine
what I would toss aside.