We sit in rooms painted pastel pink, wait
for the creak of the sleek door to release
intermittent shrieks and howls from newborn
babies – screams shrill enough to break faces
of the never-to-be mothers-to-be.
We stare at fluorescent lights, cold metal
glides inside, opens us wide. Don’t be shy.
We don’t care if you’re shaved, just spread those legs.
Pressure and pain, the swab comes away stained.
“Not so bad, right? We’ll call in a few days.”
We push little pills out of their casings
to prevent life from taking root and try
to swallow the burden. Push, push it down.
Like a buried seed, never to break out.
Ashley Person is from Pottstown, PA. She is an English major here at University Park. She fell in love with writing poetry after taking the class Introduction to Creative Writing. Continuing down that path, she is currently taking Introduction to Poetry Writing and plans to take Advanced Poetry Writing.