Fine Line

I’m going to bleed on my own terms.

After my fifth pregnancy loss the Bloodhound was angry.  I took a razor blade and sliced at my wrist until the specks became lines and the lines became drops and the drops became rivers.

I did this only once.  It was satisfying in the moment but like any bad decision, it compounded my pain the morning.  Blood for blood was just more blood and I had given enough.

Joy bloomed around the corner.  I just needed to hold on.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Fine Line

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: