The Womb

Despite training myself to be own hero, I know it when I am helpless, when everything is keenly unbearable and I’d have to recognize and accept the chink in my armor. I’d sit there and feel the weight on my back while my calm face manages to greet her with a dainty smile. Slowly, I would come closer until my skin and her skin won’t depart like we are in one flesh. It’s in the way I would suddenly embrace her or in the way I would put my head on her lap. Nothing in the world feels better, nothing in the universe is safer than the entirety of her presence merging with mine. I guess the most painful periods of our lives always make us want to reach for our mothers as we miss the world in her precious womb where we hadn’t known these complexities and trying times outside yet, where the heartbeat we felt was only for her. I could almost forget what I have become that for a single moment I just want to stay as that innocent pea she once had carried for months. Maybe my soul longs for where I lived first, for the darkness there didn’t mean as being close to death but to a new beginning.