The Unwanted Fetus

He was unrecoverable. Broke me into pieces of mirrored glass. Devoid of all things previously inhabited. Severed any semblance of assurances I had in redeemable men. The fetus he gave to me that I discarded like rags in a bowl of halogen water. Flushed it down like heroin in my veins to yearn for its retching in the morning and seventy days, straight. He broke me. Rejected and returned me to the everglades. Reduced me to a momentary collapse of the very existence. Sunder my fragile heart into splinters. I didn’t recognize my own reflection. All because he didn’t return my call.

He must have hated me
Deep within the crevices of my nocturnal womb
Alone in this desolate tract
Where the cactus grows
He buried himself
Without consequence