Didn't want the biddie.

My boobs are now two separate islands, not even in the same archipelago. They have strayed far from me, and each other. 

I have accepted my utilitarian body.  

I had boobs to feed children, the children in question selected C) None of the above D's. Those D's then got depressed decided to move out. Fuck this they thought, "We're going to see the world" the boobs say.

 "You've already seen the world" I reply, "you really don't need to stray. Remember when I took a Xanax on the flight to Greece then drank a bottle of wine, and learned why you don't combine Xanax and alcohol? We saw the world that night, I was hot then stripped while my ex shooed me to the room as I was clearly a mess. There was a picture of me laughing hysterically in a heap against a building yelling how hot it was. Boobs, you saw Greece! You don't have to go anywhere."

"Our word is final" boobs say, "and honestly I don't get how you haven't seen the writing on the wall. I mean instead of milk we spit blood. We were never meant for this."

"This is true" I reply. "But will I ever hear from you again boobs? Some of our time had to mean something to you."

A single milky wet tear dripped from left boob. "You'll hear from us every time you walk without a bra. We will be there, cheering you on, clapping loudly."