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