This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SLU chapter.
The morning after the Roe leak
I wash a crime scene
out of my bed sheets.
I cry with America,
Red.
I run into a friend
in my dorm’s laundry room.
He does not understand
the worry lines
or the stains.
He forgets women bleed
for him.
I think that
he forgets
“Woman”
is me.