Murder Tramp Birthday

centipede woman by Elleirsource

You say womanhood I say trauma
you say uterus I say flytrap
Sometimes I feel like I’m two entities locked in a
lethal symbiosis;
one of us constantly hurts,
grinds against any sharp object they can find
while the other just pretends they cannot feel it
glues on lipstick, eats a bottle of Xanax,
and calls the neighbor a whore
I tell my body to shut, please shut, but it opens,
I’m not great breeding material you see,
death herself reached her bony fingers in
and pulled a joke out of my womb.
if you ask me what it means to be a woman
I’d say I have no clue
except that she’s carnivorous in nature
and will eat
anything in her way

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