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It is here again – the unwanted guest

Date - June 11, 2014     By Julia Robinson

I: Between Moons.

Protected by layers

of university papers

I am a woman

emasculated by

blue cowboy jeans

that stride into the world:

a mental smoke screen

disguising the stranglehold of

an invisible western burka

that leaves any femininity

out in the cold.

II: The Unwanted Guest.

That bitch is here again

Without as much as an invite

Squatting in my body for

An eternity of days

scaring me and my loved ones

into egg shell walkers;

her barbed tongue

puts salt willingly

into the unhealed wounds

of my loved ones

without permission

to use my voice.

Her force of conviction

Weakens me to wondering

if she is actually the real one

imprisoned the rest of the month

in the jail of my negation

allowed only now

her true expression

as I, a sweet fake

as silent as a traitor,

cower in our mind’s corner

impotently observing

her harsh rule,

as my false smile

covers over the stench

faking normality.

III: A Bloody Surprise, again.

Reduced to the rip

of primeval pain

crusading up from where

we once had a tail bone

crashing into

fertility’s death.

Mourning sneered at

by vomity blood

curdling into

thick sticky

balsamic vinegar.

Body pulsating

ripples bigger

than its physical

falling into

borders dissolving.

Straightening into

a last protest,

my stomach splits in two

too weak to hold out

as the pain knocks me

heavily back inside;

Unable now to reach

the fantasy

of the disappearing

outer world,

hanging on to a

threadbare hope

that the tiny blue pill

will hold out


this rush

of ghastly femininity.

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