A burden borne of shame
and hate, the flame of rage still burns
when she remembers the violation.
Somehow the blame landed on her
and not her attacker.

His transgression fruiting in her belly,
now, impossible to forget what happened,
useless to imagine her life as it was.
All the loathing, the resentment
felt for her assailant comes to life;
every kick feels like another assault,
every movement a reproach.

She knows she should feel something
tender and loving
for this life inside her, but all she feels
is bitterness and humiliation.

Finally, at long last, the day comes
and her labor begins.
Soon, this parasite will be gone,
she will put it all behind her,
her life will begin again.

The pain is welcome, she embraces it,
teeth bared, and works to deliver
the bastard of her rapist.

And when at last the child is delivered,
she looks into the tiny face,
and loves.


Written for Poetic Asides, November Poem-a-Day Challenge, prompt, love/anti-love.


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