|
cookieput
by Johanna MayI never knew motherhood was such a balancing act.
Here I am outside of your milk scented
Veil of sleep,
Frantic, patching shards of my brokeness, lest it hurt you.
Sharp words dulled into mere whispers.
Carrying hope in one hand, remedies in the other, tip-toeing around each slumbering beast that howls
about the rage
that I am careful of so not to wake you.
My milk spatters with my every step
like fairy book crumbs pointing in each room where to find me.
When you cry
my breast cries with you.
When you are hurt I can feel phantom fangs and claws extend,
I can already taste the blood of that
which attempts to wound you.
Even if it is my own selfishness,
now broken like a soft animal
that could never harm anymore.
When you look up at me,
radiant and pure.
A clean slate
with my face on it. 02/03/2014 Author's Note: plate full of Plath
Posted on 02/03/2014
Copyright © 2024 Johanna May
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 02/03/14 at 02:23 PM *****STELLAR*****
[really enjoyed reading...especially knowing this is authentic experience inspiring the words] |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/03/14 at 04:26 PM What an interesting title. I remember these feelings, but you have expressed them vividly. Thank you. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/05/14 at 12:01 AM Pathos, the lament and joy of motherhood. |
|
