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June 2, 2017

The Other Day I Peed on a Stick

The other day I peed on a stick 

and when I peed on the stick

I knew my blood was like poison, 

but without my medication, 

I’ll go crazy.

I’ll never be the girl in the movie who throws up, 

pees on a stick, then says,

honey? I’m pregnant! And runs to her lover. 

Buys bitty shoes. 

Buys bitty hats.

I’ll never read aloud to my belly, 

then deny doing such a silly thing.

I won’t look into a tiny face and see a glimmer of me, 

of my mother, 

of my husband.

I won’t be looking at someone I will love forever. 

Someone to give the world to.

Someone for whom 

I’d make sure 

the world was something to fall in love with.

Trump is the President-elect. 

I peed on a stick 

and when I peed on the stick 

I knew my blood was like poison 

and I’d spare a child all sorts of deformity, sickness.

I waited the two minutes 

you have to wait, 

wondering, 

what if he changes everything?

What if someday I can’t get an abortion, 

my blood like poison?

This is an excerpt from a poem by Rae Rose the author of Bi...

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