Alabama

I can’t even talk about Alabama because, if I do, if I even start thinking about it, I’ll start hating on people and that’s contrary to where I want to go with my life at this point since I’ve resolved to stop making people I differ with my enemies and to start finding common ground with them but there is no common ground to be found with people, men and women, who would force a younger me to have a stranger use a wire to end a pregnancy that I couldn’t have a doctor end because he would be breaking the law and so I had to take my life in my hands because that was less terrifying than what would lie ahead if I continued to be pregnant, and that’s what I’ll think about if I think about Alabama, that they wouldn’t care about the wire, it wouldn’t mean anything to them, but it could have killed me.

2 thoughts on “Alabama

  1. I woke up in the middle of the night with this horrid state of affairs on my mind. My home is roughy 25 miles south of the Georgia state line. Am I brave enough to be a transporter for women needing safe, legal abortions? I don’t know. I want to be, but it scares the crap out of me.

    Liked by 3 people

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