In Dimidio

I was once a young woman
raised for the inherited purpose
of finding a young man;
born and bred
from faithful stock,
I swallowed myself whole
without chewing
to become  
my motherís daughter;  
but my sensory hedonism
and wild moon howling  
regularly escaped  
shoddily constructed confinement;
shame and regret followed me  
like a loyal pup,
committed to shadowing  
my every move  
youth shoved me harshly,
with eyes rolled †
at my sudden irrelevance,  
slamming the door
loudly behind me
and turning the deadbolt
as if to make the point
that I wonít be allowed
to return;
the sweet giggles
of my babies
left to sit on blankets  
in the cool shade  
on sunny days
without me †  
I am not yet  
an old woman,
bent with the burden  
of carrying wisdom
gathered the hard way;
silver hair flowing
free of the weight of a crown
earned meeting expectations,
the weight of opinions
that never should  
have been allowed  
to matter in the slightest
shrugged from rounded shoulders,
the strong silk of quiet grace
softly draping them now, instead  
old age  
peeks through the chain-lock  
at the other end of the hallway -
Iím too full of dreams, yet
to be invited in for tea;
with a voice made of the rasp
of having been dragged  
across long miles  
of rough pavement  
she asks me to return  
just as soon as Iím saturated  
with memories instead,
preparing for  
the inevitable end
is the flavor brewing  
in the antique pot
on the stove †
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published | Edited 11th Mar 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8 reading list entries 3
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rainy_day13 DanielChristensen AspergerPoet56
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