World Childless Week

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Medusa

Oh — who’s that?
She reminds me of someone I know, frightening!
Don’t look at her head, it’s dangerous!
There must be something wrong with her...
Come, let’s go home, they are waiting.

Yes, it’s me.
I have become someone else.
They had to remove my womb:
I am transparent, naked, an open wound.
Snakes are growing on my head, scaring everyone to death
Impossible to hide them.
Why is it that I’m invisible at the same time?
I have become a problem.

Oh my dear body.
How can I ever forgive?
Be forgiven?
Oh my dear heart, you are bleeding, too.
Please don’t leave.
Stay with me.

From deep inside, my wounded, empty root has only given life to:
Love, transparent, innocent.
Only a letter.
A Love letter which is, at the same time, a Farewell.

Nothing more?

One day, I will stand tall, my heart wide open again, my head framed by a crown like Medusa, but fiercely shining like a Lion’s mane.

Anon.