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Discomfort fills my body. Legs are becoming weak, my nerves are shot.

My heart continues to feel the collapse in my sternum.

Grasping and kneading my heart has taken over every movement of my body once again.

The sudden pain and agony has taken over my abdomen. My lower back has never been grasped so firmly.

Red flushes through my body and pulsates harder, deeper against my chest. A web of white and red covers my torso and suddenly I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn’t so reckless.

The initial realization of the disconnect that’s taking place as your heart screams to hold on.

Sharp inhales and brief exhales take over my breathing patterns. Inconsistent and uneven, floods of salt are streaming down my jaw line.

 The blood that’s splashed against the ceramic, I’m afraid to look deeper to see the damage my body accomplished.

The blood has rushed to my chest and I’ve lost full control over my limbs. Curled up in a corner of my single bedroom apartment, I’ve become immobile. I never thought I needed touch in my life until now.

 Falling back into the stark white single bathroom stale, I collapse to process the tragedy of an unborn. The 90-degree corner has never felt more sturdy and comforting. It has now become a hug in which I can rely on.

At 84 beats a minute, my pulse continues to climb. I can feel the pulse growing stronger throughout my body. Every artery has shown itself. Limbs are radiating heat to the maximum capacity yet the temperature feels as though it’s dropping, rapidly.

 I have yet to process the divide between me and what lays within the ceramic bowl. The facts are laid in front of me. Something is missing. Something was lost. Something was violently rejected from my body.

 Something, was a someone, who will forever be missed.


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