• Here Comes A Thought •

• To My Children •

I may be a witch
But that does not define me
I may believe in Paegan rituals, but that does not define me
What defines me is the sickness spreading on my skin
It's everywhere
My rib cage feels thin
Tell me what to do with the children dying at home?
A home of concrete, for we live on the streets
Never, nor ever, have I felt so alone

I can't hug them close with another plea
What? For me to wrap my arms around them and for them to say, "Mommy, you're hurting me?"
The damage to my soul is done
Do what you want with my body
Whether it's hanging or burning
To my children, I am sorry...
That I couldn't be the mother you wanted
For this, my heart will be forever haunted

A/N: So like, I did a little play thing at my school for this event and it was totally unorganized because people quit at the last minute, but I'm also a procrastinator, so I just felt like I'd feel better if I wrote a poem based on combining two of the choices, even though I've already presented.