Week was a loss

Flowing river
Too much water to bear
Lack of Oxygen
A thousand slivers
Story covered, again
Poignant words
Marred by sand
Sediment and grit
Tar and vines
Draw what you see
Not what you think
Pulling blanks
Crushing white capsules
Weighing point oh four
Tedious and backbreaking
Lifetime chore
Repeat every 10 days
Do it some more
Removal of the ritual
Removal of another
My sibling never be an uncle
Damage has already been done
Helpful source never wanted one
Blinking cursor
Waitng there
A warm black streak
On white for care
For craft
For Creation
Despair
A word whose commonality you never realized until you started to care
Week was a loss
Hopefully not a fortnight
I’ll see when I get there
Were we just born to have sex? To spread ourselves? To be another? Kids aren’t vessels to live again, they’re new lives, if consent is valuable then where does that put reproduction? Would I have consented? If others have not? If having children is a net sin then, do I mind losing it? Was I ever going to have it? How is this going to end? Have I suffered enough? Will I ever be at peace? With my memories? With my family? With me? Why am I back here? What do I keep doing wrong? I know there’s still time.