Clawing at my Insides (a poem)

there’s a world inside my body

begging to break free

clawing at my insides

wanting to remove me

wanting to scream in lonely forests

wanting to show me

there’s no such thing as progress

without the pain of

violent birth

(Photo by Cassi Josh on Unsplash)

The Woman at the Window (a poem)

The woman sits at the window

she’s always there, she stares

at the outside world

her sallow skin a testament to an indoor existence

terrified to leave the ivy-covered house like

a cat that fears and is fascinated by the outdoors.

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