Don't awaken me from
my longest standing,
deepest dream.
The dream of having
unimaginable agony
soothed instantly
by a future husband's
tears and with
newborn infant cries.
The fantasy of
fat and drooling babies,
making my torso sweat
and heart melt,
as they sleep
in my arms.
The story accompianied
by sing-song music
from rounds and rounds
of "Old McDonald" and
"This Little Piggy,"
accented with loud wet kisses
and belly laughs.
The reverie of seeing
myself reflected in
someone smaller's eyes.
Please Dear God,
don't make me
have to hear the words, "We've found a problem, I'm very sorry."
so I'll have to someday
speak the words, "I'll understand if you want to leave me."
to one man, several men and, "No I can't be your surrogate like I promised I would."
to my best friend.
Please Dear God,
I love my sisters
though they may not
share my blood.
So forgive me,
because I'm begging you
for the chance
my mother never had.
Please Dear God,
I find out Friday.
Let the conclusion
of my week
be the ending
of my anguished pain.
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