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28 days

Every time I bleed,
I wonder where you are.
A piece of my heart hemorrhages down through my lower body
and paints my vagina in guilty globs of red.

It cries down my thighs
a subtle monthly reminder
that you were once a part of me.
That you will never give me the child I wasn’t sure I wanted
but now I know I’ll never get.

It’s just the pms, but I’m walking by our old house,
looking at the balcony.
How rough you fucked me up there,
once you knew that
I wanted someone else.

Fig trees line the street to our our place,
a fruitless reminder that
I’m a barren basic bitch.

My ovaries are angry
that I rejected such a striking specimen,
My abdomen is aching to fulfill nature’s role.

This bloated body cramps and curls up,
wishing it knew you were okay.

The hormones harp on,
flooding me with blame.

My womb is your heart bleeding
at my lapse in judgement,
a collapse in my silver lining.
I shed tissue,
and I miss you.

blood stain

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