Spawn By Yusra Amjad


I never quite belonged to me.
Through the thinness of myself
I could feel the shadows of others,
waiting to grow into full form.

I was other people in incipient stages.

my sister’s spite.
my mother’s martyr.
my father’s anger, gaining on them
Long before I looked into the mirror
and saw my mother’s almond eyes
I felt him stirring in my hot blood.
Blind temper.
Sudden cruelty.
A grabbing of any throat that fit in my little grasp.
The echo of you in my small tyrannies.

Do I long to become my mother, as every decent girl should?

I felt you both inside me, long ago.
I always knew I’d need to choose.
An ovum waiting;
like you gave birth to me,
I would have to recreate you.

By Yusra Amjad


Yusra Amjad is a lifelong student of literature, poet, and writer in Lahore, Pakistan. She has been published at the Missing Slate, Crossed Genres, Cities+, and was a finalist for the 2016 Where Are You Press manuscript contest. She occasionally writes for and does some literary ranting at

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