A blood test.

Because it wasn't just a blood test it was a day to express 4 bottles of blood They take from my veins 1 bottle extra Am hour later they take. She wipes my skin With that alcohol rub 'I will just draw some blood ' She proceeds with the needle 1..2..3... It is in. My skin I see 'Does it hurt? 'she asks I say a yes Not beacsue the needle hurts But the life that aches my heart ' It will be okay You are strong, you are a woman Be bold and ferice, okay? ' She says I nod to reply a yes 2 bottles filled with blood The 3rd one comes It does pain to me But very tolerable for me I still shed tears Why? Because that was the only place Where they would be accepted A tear rolls down my cheek The nurse says 'child it is already done Don't whine' 4 bottles of blood And I sit still She applies a bandage next 'press it tightly don't let the blood flow' But seeing that as an opportunity to die I do Not press it hard. Blood! Blood! My mother panics. 'press the cotton over it' the calm. Nurse instructs. She comes and applies the cotton. The blood test now all over. Did it sacre me? My sister asks 'even if it did it doesn't really matter' I say with a face that had never mattered.

Author's Note

This is from the day I got a blood test and realised that my tears were more accepted and understood at the hospital then at my home