Unborn Poem by Gillian Commerford

What would my life have been
if I'd never been born?


My mother tried to abort me-
she climbed on a bright blue chair
and jumped off
a dozen time or more
feet jolting on the floor;
she drank bottles and bottles of castor oil
and took very hot baths
but I curled up in her womb and clung.

What would my life been
if I'd never been born?
If some kindly doctor
or some hag with a knitting needle
had forced me early
to exit that safe place.

What space would my spirit have occupied?
What vacancy would have been left?
Would I have been a faint regret-
a lingering thought in the back
of my mother's mind-
an ache in her womb;
a sadness in her belly
or utterly, completely forgot
as if I was never
as if I was not?