As he cries,
As he cried,
my chest crumples,
in to itself.
My ribs and their contents compress in to one firm ball of paper thin, spiky, cutting silver foil.
The pain is sharp and growing and indescribable to someone outside my skin.
It’s not the sound, it’s not a choice, it’s a feeling that I cannot ignore. It physically aches within my bones, the internal organs questioning, fighting, why such extreme emotions are forcing me to react in such a painfully internally physically aching manner.
When he cried, and cried and cried,
I felt it in my uterus, i really did.
My womb twitched, my tubes tangled and my vagina quivered in painful recognition of the pain it has bore and released in to my world.
My insides truly hurt when i hear the cries,
Why can’t they just sleep.
Why is everything such a fight. My body can’t take this kind of abuse anymore. Emotional batterie of the loudest kind.
My hormones are beating at their crying rate.
The oestrogen, progesterone, the melatonin, the fuckin moanin
It’s all inside, outside, one-side.
And again. And again. And again.