What About Me?

January 27, 2013
I know you can't see me . . . yet.

I know you can't hear me . . . yet.

I know you don't fully know me . . . yet.

I know you don't truly love me . . . yet.

I'm a part of you, but I'm not.

I live inside you, but I'm my own thing.

I know your reaction when you found out about me.

You cried yourself to sleep one time.

I didn't know what to do.

Don't you want me?

I try to reassure you, but you won't have it.

You don't think I have much of a say.

But there are so many things that I want to do.

I want to call you Mommy.

I want to see where you live.

I want to know a little more.

I want to know that you care.

I want you to know that I'm really here.

And I really don't want to disappear.

I heard someone tell you I'm a fetus.

I don't understand what that is.

I'm a human, like you, only smaller.

Still growing.

Why do you punish me for something I never did?

Why do you do away with me, so I may never live?

I could be a singer.

A writer.

A dancer.


A leader.

A mayor.

I could become great.

But most of all, I could be your child.

I sit here, waiting for your decision.

I want you to be my mommy.

I want to know the world.

I want to know what love means.

I want to know how life works.

I don't want that taken away from me.

I don't mean to hurt you.

I don't mean to make you cry.

I don't know what I did wrong.

If you won't love me, won't someone else?

If you don't want to be my mommy, can't someone else be?

I still want to wrap my arms around you, to love you.

I'm still too small to be seen by the world.

I'm still too small for my voice to be heard.

I'm still too small to be known.

I'm still too small to be held and cared for, loved.

And because I'm so small, you can't hear my cry.

My cry, when you tell that scary man in a white coat,

That you're finished with me, even though you can't see me.

I'm still too small to be






So it's no small wonder that no ones asks,

What about me?

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