Wednesday, January 8, 2020

7 weeks

In becoming a mother
I fear becoming my mother
losing myself
maybe on purpose
or by accident

A prisoner to the life I’ve created
my old self only seen
in whispers in the wind,
in the light that winks through
the crack in the door.
The deep murmurs in dreams,
a glimpse beneath dark waters.

I cannot lose her,
the wild woman.

She is life itself.