A festering rebirth

She gathers her limbs, looks at where they lie

Blood, pus, scabbing

She knows she did not create this

and yet it is there.

It has things to teach her,

with its pockets of

sensitivity

Its walls, its blocks she cannot

see through

She feels almost there.

The earth cries beneath her feet

She wants to See

Sometimes she imagines it is healed

What she does not know

is that it’s not as scary as she thought

She just has to go down, to

Descend.

To let it Move her

Let it excavate

itself.

 

— Heal Your Wounding with Men has shifted into WOUND.

WOUND begins in November. You must do a call with me to join.

Apply here.

 

If you liked this piece, you might also enjoy:

maybe one day I will tell my children

– the crows, unconcerned, will be happy to eat our bodies when they fall

you were never a virgin and nothing was ever taken from you

pleasure in dissolving (being in Winter)

Nothing, herself

how to live when the world is dying

 

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