The most scary thing,  at least to me,  is being told you can't have kids.  
Now it is not like I wanted kids.  
But the thought of when my doctor told me so casually at a young age that I may never be able to, has always scared me.  
I wasn't that old.  Someone who never got my monthly at the age 16. And a doctor just bluntly tells me I am messed up.  
Now years later it still isn't fixed and I stay worried
That I will disappoint someone I am with.  
People tell me that is it fine.  They were told the same thing.  
But it isn't fine!  I am not you!  And what happens if it is true.  
I am told by my friends that I am blessed.  To never really get a monthly or to get it every few months.  It isn't lucky.  My bones are brittle and I always have a nagging feeling that I will disappoint my partner.  But I won't say anything.  It is too soon for that.  But at some point he will click two and two together.  He is very smart after all.

My biggest fear -----

You'll look at me the way I look at myself

I hear a sound
In the middle of the night
Nobody is awake
Except for me
The sound
It rings
Like a bell
It won't stop
The alarm
It's a warning
To save me
From me

Deep down I have a collection
I have a dozen bottles in it
Certain ones I keep in its own section
When it look through it takes a bit

Certain ones look so enticing
They pull me in certain ways
Some sweeter than cakes icing
Others bring on a familiar haze

In the back are the ones to avoid
Sadness, misery, and much more
The feelings of sitting in the void
And thoughts of who I’m living for

Don’t dare try and open one
If it opens they all explode
After that, what’s done is done
And my emotions take quite a load

I gather it all up once more
I’m used to it by now
Yet it still leaves me hurt and sore
Days like these I wonder how

My collection is so big
Maybe because I lock them away
I’d rather smoke this cig
What’s the harm of keeping it all in anyway

This monster called guilt, is eating me alive,
And I'm telling you this, so one day, when I've died,
You don't have sit there and wonder all the reasons why,
It's her, it's me, it's all the things I did hide,
Because of the shame and the regret,
And the things in between that I sat,
Upon for years that made me bleed,
Until I choked upon their ashes in my head,
And you all rationalized it away,
The rage and the self-hate,
But it all came down to, it all comes down to,
To a basement and carpet stains on the ground,

Someone help me end this living nightmare,
Where I'm haunted by a demon with golden hair,
She said to trust her and touch her there,
Well I did, and I did, now I hate her,
But not as much as I hate myself,
And no one can take away how I feel,

Sunshine shone in from that tiny window underground,
But all I could concentrate on was the sounds,
That came out of your filthy mouth,
And now I'm just on a one way train that's bound,
For hell, just like you, so eternity it is,
With the devil stuck in my head,
But I deserve no less for what I did,
They say it's cycle, yes, that's what they said,
But I'll never do it again,
But she, I'm sure, she did,
So who's worse or any better really in the end?
The one who learned their lesson, or the one who never did?

Someone help me end this living nightmare,
Where I'm haunted by a demon with golden hair,
She said to trust her and touch her there,
Well I did, and I did, now I hate her,
But not as much as I hate myself,
And no one can take away how I feel.