|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
![]() [Content warning: childbirth, domestic abuse.] step 1, let the midwife's hands map the expanse of your courage let your courage crumple beneath her fingertips till it dusts her palms step 2, spread your legs and let her fingers trace a map into your womb a map with entwined roads and dusky forests and silent seas step 3, push when she tells you
all the determination that clouds the chambers of your being tighten your toes, curve them, curl them as your toenails dig into the soles of your feet push, push, push occasionally, you may hear the scars that adorn your armbands of bruises tinkling, almost jingling like the tassles on a teenager's bracelet step 4, let her hands dive beneath the covers, like free willed wanderers and let her lift this flushed-cheek something from between your legs let her wipe the blood, your blood that adorns its forehead let her wrap its infant nakedness into a bright, pink blanket and then, let her tell you that it is a girl step 5, hold this bundle of feminine newness to your heart and if she squirms, tell her not to because that's not how a girl should behave, for good girls are patient, they sit still lift her tiny arms, and touch the dimpled innocence of her skin, your hands quivering and with motherly foresight, you assign positions for her armbands of bruises for you are aware that no girl's arms can be girl's arms without them, and then suddenly you think about the tinkle of the tassles of scars that shall soon hang from the armbands of bruises and you wonder, as you look at this bundle of newness will she be able to hear the tinkle of a scar? Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
* = Editors' Choice work
Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
October 2023
|