Motherhood

The breeze licks through an open window,
bags hanging out as witches on trees,
it feels like a long time since I've slept, or found peace.
A train goes by beyond the closed blinds midday.
The scent of the Hoya wafts from the gap under a closed door,
a thirst deep and intentional clots on my throat.
A fuck self care attitude blistering in my airway.
It's the ceaselessness that does it,
it's the lack of screwing, and talking, and adult company that does it,
knee deep in toddlerdom,
neither here nor there with the business that may bring a little self respect.
It's just a sinking into stay at home life, the you should be grateful for all this free labour life, the you chose to have one life, the judgement on every corner life, the someone please hold me while I cry in melodramatic summer rain then pretend it didn't happen so we can resume mind numbing monotony life.
It's the alone life,
but not entirely.
See, mostly it's good, genuinely, I am lucky and happy and gifted with such joy
- but right now,
in this thick Summer, complacent toddler, lack of physical, tired life
it's pretty damn bitey.