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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1302866
poetic thoughts on my life at 25
I linger here in the middle,
floating, waiting, anticipating.
I am curled up in the
womb of my future,
slowly inching
my way down the birthing
canal.
This womb of mine
has mirrors and a bus line,
and an old VCR that I can
play my favorite fairytales on,
over and over.

If you touch my hand
can you hear my silence
echoing through
your own soul?
Can you?

I wish we all could.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1302866-My-Womb