I don’t like the title mom

A poem written for Mother’s Day based on my experience. 

A volunteer position
thrusted upon me. 

Grew up with billboards

off the side of the freeway.

                My thoughts would create a killer 

        No family member offered corrections. 

Consumerism advertises failing mothers.

Where is the campaign for recovering?

There is no self preservation,

only sacrifice. 

Mothers are forged through pain.

Previous generations laugh

as you develop sepsis.

They refuse to follow your rules 

established to keep the infant safe. 

Nhs says T.H.A.N.K.S

Drop my top every two hours

because the newborn needs to feed.

Boyfriend sleeps so peacefully.

Too many warriors lost to the process of birth;

“But all that matters

 is that the baby is okay.”