Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
Greetings! Hello! I’m your Biological Clock.
Only 36, you say? Well, this may come as a shock…
You are past your prime and you’ll be hearing me mock…
You. Every month. Mocking. Mocking. Ticking. Tocking.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
You look young for your age? Again, surprise!
Those dismal progesterone levels give up your disguise.
You pride yourself on no gray hair? Here I am to remind you that life is unfair.
Wishing, wanting, praying, hoping. No luck? Haha, here I am to remind you of how much you suck!
So much for planning and persevering. I’m lodged in your brain. I’m jeering, not cheering.
Again and again.
Related Post: Dear Infertility
Time to add science into the mix.
Not what you wanted, but if it could nix…
the ticking, tocking, never stopping, constant f-ing reminder of the desert that you are, it would be worth it. Wouldn’t it?
Dry, desiccated, sharpened shards of silica. Are you even a carbon-based lifeform?
Envy, sadness, shame, and guilt.
Sure, you can’t help the way you were built.
But that sentiment provides little reprieve.
I’m here to remind you of what you can’t achieve.
I’ll be ticking and tocking while all the others chime in.
You’d be smart not to listen unless they have been to the hell. you’re. still. in.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
Originally published on The Thousand And Me
Photo by Seth Macey on Unsplash
—–
About the Author: Adriane is the wife to a wonderful husband of twelve years. She is currently the mother of one dog and one cat. She is an Emergency Department RN, a visiting adjunct professor of nursing, and a terrible cook. She longs for a human child (or children), whether they originate from herself or brought by a stork. Adriane has always enjoyed writing, especially poetry, and would like to be a writer when she grows up.
This is me. Every word.