It’s OK to not be OK…

I don’t get it.

It’s past hurting for us. It’s beyond anger and sadness.

We have nothing left to say to each other.

About this…

It’s a type of numb neither of us know.

Usually I welcome the numb. But.

I’m afraid it will make me bitter.

Allowing myself to step into it is allowing myself to become consumed by it.

The numb.

I’m a fucking robot.

Input and output.

I smile.

I sing.

I workout.

I google how to twerk to keep things interesting.

Everything feels like a deflated balloon.

I’m turning my body over to science because it won’t do what it was meant to do.

I don’t care what they do to me. Just fix me. Make me work. Make my uterus hospitable.



Comments are Welcomed!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s