The Scrap Piece of Paper.
By Maxxine
Where is my journal On this day when I need it most? Sitting in an abortion clinic waiting for one of my best friends to magically reappear without a care in the world? How is it that through my responsibilty I still wound up in this reception room paying for deadly mistakes? Yes, I know how the woman after her abortion feels and needs to be treated, but how will I feel forever Knowing only I know? Knowing she only Trusted me? Knowing that this scares the hell out of her and I have to act like it doesn't scare the hell out of me? (because it does, it really, really does.)i wrote this earlier today in the clinic, and I don't know who to talk to, considering that i can't talk to anyone that i know, that would defeat the secrecy, now wouldn't it...? Written January 29th, 2002 © on Jan 29 2002 10:23 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"Where is my journal..."