Blue Skies

With his hands around my throat
Choking agony does not stifle a faint smile
A feeling of mute joy, betrayed by the blows and kicks.

I asked for this, I really did
Though the reasonings seem ogrish,
I am an unfortunate mother of a mistake.

I can't help but wonder, wonder if this is going to work
Will this keep the little one from facing a world of inopportunity?
Are these actions truly from the fear of giving nothing to this child
But a life time of disappointment?

Each blow is more painful than the last
It hurts me, but is it killing her/him?
I'm ready for the beating, but I'm not for the shackles of motherhood.

Blue skies, soaring seagulls at the ocean
It would all be nice, it really would,
If only I was ready for you.