XX

Gnawing, grinding
stretching, chewing
me inside out.
I thrash
from side to side,
twisting and turning,
I catch my breath,
only to claw
at my nightmare
with eyes wide open,
ready to rip
my intestines,
my ovaries,
to be free
of the pain
as I sink
into my pillow,
and close my eyes
to pray,
but I find
myself
laughing
in frustration
wishing
I could turn back time
and be a boy instead,
trade my extra X
for a Y.

The turmoils
of womanhood –
yearly heartbreaks
and monthly cramps.
Hiding tears
behind laughter,
we always hope
for better days,
better nights,
so we wouldn’t
be sitting here
listening
to the clock,
writing this poem
at 3 am.

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