To Be a Womb

Poetry by Hadley Dion

Items for protesting women's rights in a pile together, including plastic clothes hangers and written signs of protest in Polish.

is to be a miracle and a hated cavity, to carry someone else’s grief deep in your welter center and to shed it brown and sticky in clotted bathtub. 

Growing and feeding and fostering something new, but only under flame of wanting and heartbeat of hoping. 

Sacred in privacy. A carriage with a choice of passenger. Crowned by darkness and relief and labeled traitor by angry faces on pedestals of hypocrisy. 

Under control and under regulation and not your own and somehow always becoming. On your way home.

To carry womb under any name, any expression, any day is to balance pain with light and be prone to shadowed danger.  I am gloom womb, I am glowing womb, I am gazing womb, terrified of the ruins they are building.

A chamber with a lyrical reverberation so forceful, they could never damper it under the palm of holy oppression. 

Underground, rebel sinner womb, empty riot womb, retired womb, without womb, protest as powerful 

as womb.

Hadley Dion is a writer, audio editor, and filmmaker from Los Angeles. Her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Scapegoat Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, FreezeRay Poetry, Nixes Mate Review, Olney Magazine, and more. She spends her extra time volunteering at her local cat rescue and crafting punch needle rugs.

Photo by Zuza Gałczyńska on Unsplash

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