sundays are for embracing
the gift of being able to
create life
in our wombs
even though
we missed that opportunity
during the fertile week
of ovulation
so on sundays we weep
and on sundays we bleed
and on sundays we keep
the heat
pressed against our bellies
and I’ll remember this poem
every 28 days
to remind myself of the magic
I am able to create
amongst my thighs

I’ve been a patient of pain far too long
And though pain has no home for me any longer
I’ve found that I just don’t know how to fully let go
Of all our memories
And moments
Of all the late night sessions of crying
It had me in
Of all the victories I claimed for embracing it
Bracing through the night with it
Of all the art we created
My longest term relationship
The most toxic person I dated
Probably heard I love you less
Than I hate it...
Though I can’t really hate it
Look at how far we made it
I promised myself when I got free from you
I wouldn’t look back
I wouldn’t even think about you
But here I am one last time
Dedicating a page to you
How am I supposed to live without you
How am I supposed to have a reason to heal
without you
How am I supposed to ever feel like I don’t need you
How am I supposed to create without you
How am I supposed to relate to other hurt people without you
What do I have left to say without you ...
How am I supposed to cry without you
How am I gone die without you ????