July 18, 2018

“I want, I want, I want, my uterus said. I want. But I could not give her anything. There would be no future children, no uterine reconstruction, no life outside my body. She would exist here, within my skin, for however long it took for her to finish putrefying and drain, the muck of her red-brown and stinking, slicking my thighs on her way out, staining the bedsheets…”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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

Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: