Healed Women & Unhealed Mothers – Poem

A poem on the Mother Wound.

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You are your mother’s womb
and her milk that sustained you.

Your vision grows translucent
hers is fog clouding her weary soul.

Her tale is violence each month
sealed shut from her mouth
erupting with each clot
you flush down the toilet.

Her wounds are yours to balm
too often weeping and oozing
late at night.

You hold her gently inside your skin
each time your breast aches
with history suppressed inside your chest.

You embrace yourself often
wishing to know was enough to feel
the warmth she was too starved
of to pass on to you.

Thank you for being here,
Laurel
From my self-published poetry and essay collection,

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