Body Positive, feminism, Poetry, thoughts

my womb is not my own;

Like Eve, I fell,
And like Lilith, I am punished.

My womb is not my own;
Pale hands caress and judge
As I spread my thighs with my  own
authorization; my womb is not my own;
Pain wrecks havoc inside of me, I curl
Up like the fetus inside me; my womb is not my own;
Life and death, a cycle that can never be
Broken, never can be truly reciprocated,
and can never truly be understood; my womb is not my own; miracles in abundance
As I lay my head to sleep, adventures unfold, lies untold, as he peppers kisses on my stomach; my womb is not my own; pale hands grab for my gift,
I clench my thighs even when he commands its his; my womb is not my own; I tell my miracle lies-that the world is lit with wonderful lights and love falls from the sky like rain, there are people who are kind, animals that never horribly die, I tell these lies as I rock myself to sleep; my womb is not my own; my womb is not my own; my womb is not my own; my womb is not own;

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