i remember being 14,
and sitting on the edge of his bed
we decided to "make love"
when we were supposed to be studying
instead.
a few months later,
i found myself vomitting over a
toilet
i knew something was wrong,
and i knew i couldn't ignore it.
a few more months went by,
and my stomach grew bigger
my nights grew restless,
and i started losing my
"figure"
i couldn't hide this anymore,
it was obvious i had a child,
but how would his or father handle the news?
i didn't wanna bother him,
we haven't spoken in a while
but i had to put all those thoughts aside,
because i was going to be a mother,
and the thought of giving birth at 14
was more painful than any
other
i wanted to cry, and above all
i wanted to just "get away",
but this baby is gonna need a mother,
so i had to live another day.
another day to see him laugh,
another day to see him grow,
another day to tell him how i decided to keep him,
instead of putting him on
death row.
