my childhood bed

i used to sit here

in my childhood bed.

writing words

for all the boys who laid their head...

now i cradle a child, born of my body

all fluffy hair and milk breath.

i often think

i am softer as a mother.

here, where i used to sit and shudder

i was always the one to leave.

and when you married me

i wandered to you like a lamb.

you soon grew fierce

and i, repugnant.

scant food passes my lips

and the roundness of my face

lost to waste.

it was conscious, then.

now i feel the ache

because i always wanted to belong to somebody.

i feel the bruise

the ice cold shock

that lingers in my belly.

i was worthless to you.

but it will not last

i am stripped back

taken to where it all began
this bed.

(alone, yet not alone

she said)