Free Verse Poetry

In Search of the Perfect Womb

I’d been searching, searching, searching
for some ephemeral something that could not quite 
formulate properly along my tongue into 
quite the right sentence

so I clicked my teeth together and popped my lips 
until I finally found a word: God (my first one) 
and I planted it 
a seed in a dark and lushy patch of dirt
so it would grow and grow and grow into a behemoth 
I wanted to melt into this mold
birth a new existence, a new heart, new eyes
but the longer I stayed 
I realized: 
I’d chosen the wrong God

so I parted my legs instead, loosened the buttons on my shirts 
offered to unzip anything that could
form sensations of colors and vibrations and unlockings 
I so desperately needed
but I could only feel their weight with my eyes closed tight 
(only slightly similar to those weights I couldn’t name) 
I closed my eyes for too long, and the
colors of pleasure transmogrified into nightmarish shadows 
weights once welcomed in my bed grew too heavy
felt too much like the ones I silently suffered beneath
in my childhood bedroom 
I realized: 
I’d chosen the wrong Love

so I jumped on a plane and left God
sold the weights on my bed to the first person willing 
to dole out the cash, I turned my gaze to 
flowers and water, birds flying across lengths of sunsets 
I set my feet to walking towards the finish lines 
of every horizon, marveled at life in full bloom 
and I collected a beautiful well of tears for 
the birthing all around me 
but the tears soured, my smile faded
I slunk back into four steel walls 
(I thought I’d left those back home) 
and those gorgeous birthings of life 
no longer felt real, they were no longer enough 
I realized: 
I’d chosen the wrong Mother

all this time, searching, searching, searching 
I was looking for a womb to crawl into
and all the choosing I’d done couldn’t fold me in 
because they would never be her
so perhaps I should build instead 
stop searching (or even choosing)—just be 
there are no wombs like the one I crawled out of 


there is nothing to go back to
there is nothing left to  
search for in all the wrong ways 

2 comments on “In Search of the Perfect Womb

  1. ‘so perhaps I should build instead’ I loved this line/realization near the end…

    and also ‘I set my feet to walking towards the finish lines’..

    Liked by 1 person

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