My body is plotting against me.
My spine wants to split in half.
The pain is all-consuming,
Unavoidable,
Causing me to dull myself down
With painkillers and black comedies
In an attempt to numb
My aching muscles.
The process is pointless,
Month after month of this
For the last ten years-
You’d think I’d be used to it by now.
My pain tolerance is quite high.
And I really want ice cream,
But the internet says to avoid dairy.
This is what significant others are made for:
Designated back massagers
And ice cream go-getters,
To touch you lovingly
And sometimes not at all
And to watch romantic movies
And not complain because they value their lives.
I hate being female
And my internal organs
Don’t seem to like the arrangement, either.
Endometriosis, they call it,
Just a fancy word for
Fuck my life.
And I figure
If I have to live through this every month
I’m going to get some fucking ice cream.
Where are my pants?
Living With A Chronic Illness: Endometriosis
