the failings of a surgically healed heart | a collection

1 | rebirth/puberty

before i am woman,
after baptism
in my own (menstrual) blood;

i am a boy

i like feminine things - occasionally
like barbie dolls and
the colour pink.
but, no more than my second brother/multi-purpose sibling

wear my hair in cornrows
and bear an uncanny resemblance
to kendrick lamar
(before he was famous)

i am still my father's favourite,
my mother is still the wicked witch amid the west,
i am the tallest in my class and
a part of every athletics club one can think of.

which is to say,
i do things to stay feeling big.

understand womanhood theoretically
(because of sex-ed):
the unfairness of having to shed a surname
and an uterus lining.

but like a conservative don't care
(to understand)
until it happens to me.

so when it does,
when i stain the bathroom red;
scream to be saved
in comes my mother,
[unmasked]
her brown skin stretched paper thin

(a discovery:
mama was never a witch,
just exhausted).

she helps me.
without argument.
cleans the mess my womb has made,
shows me how to wash my bloodied underwear
(by hand)
remains silent until i am anew
then drying me, says:

"'needn't tell your father about this, for you are a woman now.'"

- boyhood was summer in eden and i, the serpent

--

this poem is essentially the budget version of one by tina / achillesink

i read it's called DOLL, I (pt. i) and it's gorgeous and i so recommend it she is truly a talent and I well and truly recommend ya'll go and check it out because it's similar in terms of theme to this but far superior.