sometimes i wish that
my heating pad would burn right through me
down through skin, layer by layer
through muscle and blood vessels
until the flames reach the accursed organ:
the uterus, that horrid thing
as i lie in bed
headphones clasped tight over my ears
longing to feel anything but this pain
i imagine the flames devouring
Every. Inch.
ripping through muscle and tissue
roaring through the uterine lining
up the fallopian tubes
leaping from the fimbriae
and wrapping its scarlet fingertips around my ovaries
until there is nothing left but ash
and then
blissful
stillness
what i wouldn’t give
for the chance to have one month
without this all-consuming pain
but i want kids one day
