Sarah Renee Wollstonecraft
how many years until creating new life
is worse than taking one, something
torturous, painful? is it now?
i don’t loathe my life’s mothers, really,
pinnacles of juice stained sainthood,
idols of upbringing. but, fuck man,
have you seen the place? why would you
damn a baby to boil? the world isn’t ending
but if it looks and sounds and feels
like apocalypse, what should i think?
i remind myself i am no arbiter. i don’t
name hell, i just tongue sulfur like sugar,
and know my damnation when i taste it.
my therapist asks again, do you think you
and your husband want children? when you
have your whole life together, in a perfect
world? i don’t say i lay awake knowing
my nieces will never know a perfect world
i only hope they know one with snow.

SARAH RENEE WOLLSTONECRAFT is a poet currently haunting the greater Toledo area. Her poetry has appeared in Asterism, Mangrove, Lucky Jefferson, South Florida Poetry Journal, and is forthcoming in Hell is Real, The Vital Sparks and Peculiar. SR can be found lurking on Twitter @SRWllstncrft.