there is no leather-bound book bearing the title
"how to be a woman"
sometimes,
my body is a storm. i want to tell you.
i feel the shipwreck in my lungs.
i want to tell you why i cough when i laugh
my father raised me to be strong
because he was not
my heart is warm
my throat is on fire
sometimes,
my hands shake anyways
i want to tell you why
YOU ARE READING
Wasp
PoesiaA collection of poetic ramblings tucked neatly into one small corner of the internet.
