Tragedy

Mourn.
Mourn.
Mourn because you know this ain’t right.


Cry.
Wail.
Lament.
Let the pain dig in deep and set it free. Stand tall in this defeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.


No more empty promises, lies about the importance of life.
Redeem.


Tear down the machines, so easily purchased, that mow down the weak.
No more following lies— promising birth but putting a bullet between the eyes.
Where is the baby food?
Where is the insulin?


Life is precious if given right, but no rights are had when one is chained to the birthing table only to watch as their own bodies wither and die.
The eventual death meeting the child in public—starving, shot, or left for dead.


Do not deny me my body and then allow someone else to murder me.

The world is evil, stop making it easier to kill.