psychological block.

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I never cried so much as the day they told me:
You are still not a woman (not yet),
and made everything go from hot to cold.


I shook and shook and shook and couldn't breathe,
and pieces of me crumbled and covered my sheets in dust,
like I'd been lying there for years.


And I remember my arm so heavy,
so useless beside my body, on my bed,
when I needed so much to use it.


And it hardened into something I wanted to
but couldn't bring myself to cut off.


And I thought:
This is what grief is.
This is how you mourn the death of something
that was never born. 

Created: Jul 02, 2012

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