Egg Donor

April 7, 2018

You, my child, are

by all accounts happy.

Your parents paid a pretty penny

for my half of you.


Not my half anymore.

Bought and sold.

My DNA, no longer mine,



I never carried you.

Haven’t touched you

since you were twenty-three



Psychological screenings.

They needed to see I

wouldn’t want my half back.

Slice the baby in two.


They said I had a big heart.

Empty wallet rather.

Now empty womb.


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