I am only the gummy parts
sinew and flesh,
gobs of pink and the red
that drenches it.
My heart is battery powered and
my uterus belongs to someone else.
I have no affiliation
with the brittleness of my bones.
Too easily crushed into a
chalky powder, grinding between
your fingers, your teeth like grains of sand.
They do not protect me,
they choke me.
I am swollen inside, pressing against them, enormous
against the deep impressions of the cage.
My lungs are rotten and steaming,
my heart is battery powered, and
my uterus is not my own.
YOU ARE READING
An Invitation To Dreamland
PoetryWelcome in; tread lightly, and please speak softly. Ramblings and bad poetry TW: body dysmorphia, depressive themes
