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u ever get so tired of ur period that u cant even remember life when it was normal before
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It's important to drink a lot of fluids when you're sick so that your body has the raw materials to generate gallons of snot.
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If I could be soft for anyone,
Let me be soft for you.
Please ignore my calloused hands,
My scabbed knees from falling
For the wrong person-
My broken voice
From screaming my defense-
My thickened skin,
From toughening up,
From being “less sensitive”,
from being told I need to be more resilient.
Please, I have become so hardened
To survive this long
Only to bring you all of my jaded, broken, toughened pieces-
But I could be soft for you, if you’d let me
If you’d give me your hardened pieces too, all your jaded and cracked and toughened bits of you,
From people telling you to toughen up,
To be less sensitive,
Maybe we could be the grit
And turn each other into something smooth,
Something that glimmers, something polished.
Maybe we could be soft for each other.
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cw: death, grieving, cremation
Ashes
Thinking about all the ways they touched me
And all the physical places
And all the kisses
And all the nudges
And all the hugs.
Embraces held too long
Or not long enough
And thinking about the two small bullets with their ashes
What part of them did I get?
Was it a part I touched?
Or was it an organ
Maybe a bone
A piece of intestine
Now I’m considering looking up
What happens during cremation
But also considering
Just leaving it nice.
I feel like grief books don’t prepare you
For the question
“What part of my best friend did I get”
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cw: blood, female bodies, menstruation
The Body’s Revenge
Today, my bleeding feels personal
Like it knows I was relieved
That it was almost over for the month-
Like my body is taking
It’s vengeance on me
For the Plan B pills I took.
As though it is holding up it’s hands,
Bloody and raw,
Looking at me, weeping
Asking me why I deny it
It’s biological imperative
As though this body is not mine
To control.
As though it is merely
A vessel for another life.
I can’t explain the economy
To my body. Even though the stress
Of keeping the bills paid
Leaves me with a twitch in my chin and eye.
I can’t explain
That it’s not yet the right time
To the dull ache below my belly.
Instead, I hold my body
Like a screaming toddler
To stop it from throwing itself on the ground.
It does not understand it cannot have,
It only knows that it wants
And it wants.
And it will take it’s vengeance out on me
And let me wash away the evidence
Of it’s little trantrums
From my undergarments
With smug satisfaction.
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