• Jen Marsden

Poem: The Woman

I am the woman who sits and bleeds

Fired, lit up, pouting to the moon

My deep womb, enflamed, with needs

Lit up, shining, blushed, maroon 

I am the woman who sits and dreams

Dividing my souls into souls

Not yet whole, living extremes 

Confused heart, unstoked coals

I am the woman who sits and fears 

Questioning myself and my song

Right or wrong, a pool of tears

A birdcage where I don't belong 

I am the woman who desires just you

I know not why it happened to me

Now, see, to resist is merely false, untrue 

At last, I'm ready to be authentically free

I am the woman who sits, imperfect  

Respects that I bleed, dream, fear and want

No taunt, I am ready to accept

Escaping my silent house of haunt


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