Push

I had a child
but I have no daughter.
I have that past.
And I have that pain.

My body shows
the proof.
My heart remembers
the baby.

"Push." They said.
"Make "it" all go away."
No more worries.
No more responsibility.

No more baby.
"So push." They said.
"Because we are right
and you have no say."

So I pushed.
And pleaded for them to hear.
I bled from my heart.
And begged them to listen.

But "Push." They said.
And you be silent!
"When you are done
it will be over."

But they lied to me.
It was never over.
I was never "normal" again.
My heart never stopped hurting.

I had that child.
But I never had that daughter.
All I could ever do
was hope she'd understand.