Thursday

Foetus

I do not want You. I hate You. You were not what I wanted or expected, this red lump of flesh attached to the wall of the deepest, most secret part of me. I am not your mother and I have no affinity towards You either. You were put there by an irresponsible person and an irresponsible act, a moment of passion easily forgotten and highly regretable. He doesn't even know you are there and I will pretend that I do not either even though I can hear You calling to me incessantly. Your cries irritate me and I long to pluck You out of me.
Today I shall visit the doctor and insist that he remove You from my world. In one swift motion he will end Your existence like You were nothing but a flickering candle. Today i will visit the doctor and he will try to tell me about You and I will stop him and tell him that I do not want to know anything about You except that You are a cancerious growth pumping posion into my being and stealing my nutrients, my air, my life. Today I will let the doctor take You.

Stop calling out to me. Stop invading my dreams! I wish to know nothing about You and what You will become. Don't You understand that You are nothing to me? What is the point of You when You will be nothing but heartache and pain? I want nothing of that. When the doctor removes You, I will ask that he makes it impossible for us to meet again. You are nothing but a moments folly soon to be a mess of blood, bones and sinews. Stop telling my Your hopes and dreams becasuse they are nothing to me. NOTHING.
In a few minutes You will be gone, it will be like You never existed and I would be freed of this burden and guilt. I do not feel guilt for You, my guilt lies in my foolish actions that brought about You, my cancerious growth. I never did tell him You know, I never thought it would be neccessary for him to find out how foolish I was and how meaningless the act was and how worthless he is to me. In a few minutes I will be free, I think I shall have an ice cream.

I thought it would be nice to give You a funeral, but I realise now it's much better to keep You in this jar. I have grown too attached to You and yet, not attached enough. It will be better this way, You would not be able to disappoint and You will not eat me out of house and home. Do You like it here? I have even made certain you get You a glass jar so that You may look at me from time to time when we speak and when we don't, You may watch television or just stare at the atmosphere. The doctor was very good with his hands and he thought it was a miracle that You should have come out almost whole, but that doesn't matter because I can love You now, just the way You are. Now I can call You my own and you will truly be mine.

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