My Maple Tree

February 22, 2022 by Melinda Haas 2 Comments

My womb is an empty harvest
Promising plenty and starving me
Both at once

I saw it as life
Blood and energy and pain
Until I saw it as a wasteland
Lifeless
But there was still blood
And still pain
Always pain

When I place my hands on my belly
My nails claw, gently, hinting
At the violence I’d like to invoke
I’d like to rip it away
Tear it out
Bleed to death
And cry out for her while I die

Until, I remember
The hands that touch me
My own
His
Are gentle and the nails only scrape for pleasure
The tingling inside comes from something within me
From no other life than the one I live
I’m inside of me
No one else is

I am a human sacrifice for all that could have been
I am a hollow tree with limbs trying to reach for her family
Cracking in half or maybe three
I am a rock, the kind with magic inside
That only shows when it’s broken

I am made of ancient sand and dirt and stars
And I hope I become a maple or
A weeping willow
Swaying over a river that tears through the earth
Witnessing the power
Part of the strength that holds the foundation together

I won’t crack when the ice comes
If someone ties me together
Someone will say, “That should be enough”
And still, I’ll threaten to crash
Only with the one I love