The Unknown Result

I hold my stomach

like a jar of roses

without water rushing,

without dirt to

tip the pot

Stir my emotion

with a huge wooden

spoon as the only

blood I can see

is the spotting

on my underwear

I wish I could un-see.

I check my dates, weeks,

and months like a cat in heat

is the cliché I cannot escape.

I hold my stomach like a bowl

of purple grapes. Cradle it as though something

is surviving like it's almost half living

but I feel like I'm not breathing.

It's the unknown result,

I'm afraid to see, to reveal

beneath a pink sheet a plus

for yes and a minus for no.

One pink line to determine

nothing exists and two to destroy

a life as I wait for the test sheet

to greet me.

If it's yes, I can already feel

my heart intact inside the tiny

beats I wanna hear. The rumbling

of my insides telling me this

is different this time.

Undetermined and scared at 18

help me breathe but there are

no prayers for me as I hold my breath

deep beneath the fluid.

I'm drowning in the unknown result

unable to finish my words because

I'm cutting deeper and deeper

into the food I swallow the tests

that have no result.

Invisible in my eyes as I taste

the salt, chocolate, and grease

reach my lips but taking

a knife to my cotton limbs

is the not the route to the doctor's

door.

I wanna hear the tiny beats

from the cotton candy machine,

but I don't want the plus...

I take a breath I want the minus..

I take a sigh

I have pill in one hand, a want

to hear the tiny beats from the sweets

machine...I breathe.

In the other hand is relief and another

month to look forward to without

hearing beats to feel a tiny bit

of relief.

I look down at the unknown

result, as I wait for the pink test

sheet to reach my palms...

I tear up every-time he asks

have you taken one yet.