This is motherhood,
tummy, guilt and shame untucked.
Filtered, yet Unscripted,
Sporting Heating pads while
Wearing Pretty little things to soften the realities that i coexist in.
Stuck in bed, stuck in the underbelly of grace
Epiphany after epiphany, pride doesn’t have a place.
casual and reality just don’t mix-
And that is just a reality, that i now forever live with.
“My body, My Choice.”
Before it was my dismay, it was mantra.
Before i knew what i required, i wanted to be in charge of all of it.
Thats autonomy with no mastery.
Thats archery with no technique.
I wanted to be creative,
And now I am the creator of ALL things….
Good-Bad.
With no clear distinction or indifference.
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