Abused Womb of the Margin

the tireless calls from an institution disguised as a safe haven
claiming to nurse and aid the winded, bewildered, and aimless
claiming to heal and protect the ignored, silenced, and hurt

he calls out to me endlessly
he wants me to pour my soul into his seed
one of countless
and raise it as my own

except
i cannot let it be free
it cannot be feed the umpteen number of fruit the tree bears
i cannot teach them to learn the truths of the world they live in
enjoy the space they live in
exist in deserved happiness they should live in
so
i cannot love them as my own

because it

is not my seed
it is born from the rib of him
and expected to be from the womb of me
i did not raise it
i look at it but cannot see it
i hold it but cannot feel it
i hear it but cannot listen

because it is not me

it is him
disguised as a safe haven
claiming to be
love