To Bloom

When she unravels, caves in on herself
you might see rubble
she was a woman and you see
half of that, cannon fodder and dust
maybe she’s weak when she’s
sprawled
drowning in the depth of her own
womb, barren or bountiful.
She is turned from the inside
out
scattered like soil at the
tilling of the Earth
and you tell her to hold it all
placate
scrap together shards of
broken glass and seal herself up, closed.
But she is the Lotus, most beautiful
most giving, when it opens
stretches to its fullest
slowly falls apart.

3 thoughts on “To Bloom

Add yours

  1. This makes me think of feeling trapped. Doing what is expected rather than what the heart desires and the earth is drawing you toward.
    This makes me think of you, craving experience and adventure, but rationalizing what society has made us believe is necessary.

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