My cry is not like any other cry. I was born
into the mouth of a tiger.
I’m growing to be digested by an animal that
denies me even when i’m crawling inside his intestines.
My cry is not for my own pain but for the bodies of my brothers.
My cry is to trick the beast into a satisfied hunger.
My cry is to clog the tracks into these bowels,
to leave no empty spaces for my unborn children.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.