I was dreaming feverishly as the column divides me
Pain that shoots and runs and tosses
We cut ourselves open
For our wombs to remain whole
I feel the column slicing my brain apart
My baby is protected by my heart(and lungs and mouth and legs).
I dreamed I was being photographed
As an artist,
My masculine hair was growing in
I love to think I looked like Frida Kahlo,
As I felt my column jolt through
As Matthew and Melissa
As myself and my beginning
My mirror was balanced,
Not askew.
But I’m awake all night, every night
With this seething column
gnawing at my fingertips and biting at my forehead
Like little rats
Pretending to only take a nibble,
The pain of being two instead of one
A holy love of God,
Red-blue ghost submarines into my brain
Coughing out sane lullabies
At my gnawed ears,
And I am feeding my column
To be given new life
To give new life.
About the Creator
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The Ritual of Winter Challenge Winners
Welcome to the Winners Announcement for The Ritual of Winter challenge. This prompt focused on winter rituals and the meaning that settles into them over time. The top pieces stay grounded in ordinary acts and repeated routines, letting winter shape the work through pace, attention, and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Team4 days ago in Resources
Comments (6)
So powerful and visual - your poems entrance me 😍
Images of the exquisite agony of giving birth--whether to a child, an idea, or something else--as our hearts, bodies, minds & souls are rent asunder.
This was so intense and poignant. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️
It's a powerful exploration of the intricacies of existence. BEAUTIFUL AND HEARTBREAKING!
Heartbreaking!!!
Submarines into my brain- love that line. Very compelling