The body that molds you, holds you, and feeds you is of your mother and every woman you know, then why do you yearn to harm the nurturing presence that you once lived in and how do you laugh about the curves that fed you and grew you? Without them, you would have stayed the innocent child you were, carrying a heart as pure as your mother's milk.
Does your mother ever regret feeding you and ruining your innocence?
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts for the Eye
PoetryThoughts I wrote down, maybe they'll give you some comfort? "But I feel something deeper. Beneath the fear, there is a fire inside of me, one I cannot extinguish. It burns with the pain and the rage of all the women who came before me. " PS. If...
