Fibroid
I’ve carried each day’s distress inside my core,
un-wanted non-babies wrapped in worry and flesh,
entombed within my bulging uterus;
although, I rinse my womanhood
and cleanse her out month after month,
I always leave behind alumpy mess.
Sexism, mansplaining,
misogyny, chauvinism.
Like him explaining an Allen key,
like me earning 62.5 cents for his every dollar,
like me carrying pepper spray, a whistle, and a taser,
they all crash-land here upon my womb,
stock-pile, grow, and fester,
take up space allotted for inner peace,
like sleepless nights,
like racing thoughts,
like chronic fatigue,
they all defy my body’s logic here, inside my womb,
collect, creep, and invade,
take up space allotted for embryonic babies,
Here–
in the dark,
in the deep,
where my worrying and womanhood meet.
Current Issue 2026 