Petrified.
I'm not ready to die.
I carry our child inside.

Screaming with anger. Tears of fury. I thought you loved me. Dont convince me. SHOW ME.

You disrespected our union ship.
Back and forth. It's a yelling match, in the middle of traffic.

Petrified.
Magnified.
I'm not ready to die.

Our growing child resides inside.
Our first at that.
Hearts Beating fast. Tongues throwing trash. Car flying, passing traffic.

Wait.

We're passing traffic.
Moving fast. 90 at that.
Screaming to a halt. Compelled to shut up.

What the fuck was that?!

Petrified.
Mortified.
Angry tears in my eyes.
Intimidation ties my tongue.
Filled with fear.
I thought you loved me.

Searching for the healing words to calm us both.
Guiding us from the ledge of internal death.
Still on edge. Clenched fists. Seat belt. Gripping for dear life.
Punching the wheel.
Frozen.

Why must I provoke?
What have I done?

"Popo" comes.
Waiting to be crucified. Fear from my past, I protect our mask.
She asks if I'm fine. We smile, as if we're a couple of dimes.

I look okay.
Why don't I feel that way?

Terrified. I cry. You apologize.
I’m exhausted. Clenching the seed, residing within me. Why can’t you see what you’re doing to me? To us. I can’t breathe. I only wanted you to love me.
Hold me. Grow old with me.

Take me home. I'm not ready for death.
Yet.
I'm dead inside.