Washed away like clouds in a waterfall, I begin every day sopping wet. My body stays heavy with occasional awakenings that lighten my heart. Being and doing are two different states - I reach for both but they, too, are heavy. Difficult to wear.
I think of mothers in the not-so-distant past, weighed down by the emptiness of solitude. The job of a mother - rendered meaningless with the burden of society's unspoken expectations. It matters not if you bleed for your children or you bleed to forget. Remember. This is not for you. Perfection lies in the eye of the beholder. I'm sorry that no one ever thanked you.
I'm back today where I sit vacillating on the couch. Waiting. Watching. Listening. The weight of my body denser with each beat as though I have mud in my veins. Soon I must get up, muddy and soaking, ready again to face the day.
Alicia Lee Colasurdo, 2021
____________________________________________________
Find me in your inbox! Subscribe here. Thanks for reading!
Note: This poem was originally published on a separate platform.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Alicia Lee Colasurdo and writers in Poets and other communities.
Vagina Is Not a Bad Word
Society has molded us into creatures afraid of speaking openly about our bodies. This is especially true for women. There is a sense of shame or embarrassment when talking about women's bodies and naming specific parts accurately. When I started doing research for this article, one of the often "suggested questions" in Google was "what should I call my daughter's private parts?"
By Alicia Lee Colasurdo4 years ago in Viva
The Quiet Influence
The Quiet Influence An oracle on steadiness, softness, and returning to oneself Author’s Note This piece was written from a place of quiet integration rather than urgency—a moment when nothing needed to be solved, proven, or pushed through. I wrote it for those who are discovering that healing doesn’t always arrive as a breakthrough, but sometimes as a gentle settling into presence. If this feels anticlimactic, tender, or unexpectedly emotional, you’re not doing it wrong. You’re likely learning how to rest without disappearing—and how to let yourself be held without effort.
By Flower InBloom4 days ago in Poets
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.