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#womenshealth
It begins with a whisper, a shadow stitched to her womb, its weight pressing like a secret, its roots spreading unseen. They call it normal— the blood that floods like rivers, the cramps that steal her breath, the clots dragging her body down. Pain coils in her pelvis, a fire that burns without end. Her bladder aches, her bowels rebel, her back bends beneath its weight. They say it’s just being a woman, but how do you explain the storms? The tissue growing where it shouldn’t, the scars binding organs into one. She carries fatigue like a second skin, her energy drained by invisible wars. Her body becomes a battlefield— every nerve alive with rebellion. Doctors speak over her pain: It’s all in your head, they insist. But how do you imagine blood that stains, or pain that splits you in two? One day, she stops asking for answers. She stands tall in the face of dismissal. Her voice rises like thunder: This is my body; I know it best. Her womb is no longer their battlefield; it is sacred ground she reclaims. The shadow no longer consumes her— it becomes part of her story, not its end.
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Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 9:02 PM UTC
Pain as a Shadow
The shoreline stares back at me— Almost tasting it, A distant, golden line lies ahead. The tide is like a clenched fist, Tightening around my ankles, Dragging me down even further. I tell myself I know this sea. I have swum through it before, Charted its depths, I felt its pull, outlasted it. But today, the water rises, My chest feels the pressure. Salt and silence fill my mouth, Despite my kicks, the current grows stronger. The waves swallow my screams. Like a storm, PMDD surges— No warning, no mercy. My ribs tear, Its voice floods my mind— Why bother fighting it? Let go. Sink. I claw at the water, Not from strength, But from fear— This time, maybe I won’t make it. Rage consumes me. I rage that I can’t trust my own body, That my mind betrays me, Dragging me under, While the world above remains calm. Even as I sink, somewhere— I feel it: The part of me that will not drown. She remembers the taste of sand, The heat of sunlight was on her skin. She will not let go. Not now. Not ever. The shore is still there, Even if I can’t see it now. I will rise to meet it. My power is inevitable.
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Jan 5, 2025
Jan 5, 2025 at 8:48 PM UTC
Sinking, But Rising
I threw up all over the floor at Planned Parenthood Waiting for this ******* mammogram This routine procedure That could tell me whether or not I have cancer Whether or not I have to cut off my cleavage And find another source of sexuality This routine procedure That could casually change my life And royally **** me over This routine procedure That kept me up through the night Tossing and turning and bawling my eyes out This ******* routine procedure That I've been waiting 20 minutes for Surrounded by other women Who are probably getting the exact same thing done And they're totally ******* fine Nobody else is retching like a ****** Because this is a routine procedure And I have nothing to be worried about
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 1:20 PM UTC
Routine Procedure
*** stick #1 says positive #2 from the dollar stores says negative but #3 from the grocery said positive and #4 from the general was inconclusive the #5 from ER was intrusive #6 from the gas station didn't work #7 from the immediate care center hurt so the clinic tells me they don't know for sure and ultrasounds aren't yet insured I guess I can wait If it isn't too late I feel my belly guess I'll see when I show But here comes the blood it just never will grow
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
unborn dreams