The Womb I Should Have Been Conceived In

I dream of living and roaming with...

sleeping with and idolizing the stars.

The moon, my father figure.

Never angry, always the same

complacent look as if he is saying,

“I am thankful I live up here

and am able to look over you,

rather than live as one of you,

what a disgrace that would be.”

The sun, my mother.

Comforting, beckoning me

into her flawless bright,

comparable to no other,

and her warmth lovelier

than a lit fire place

on a dark winter night.

The stars, I am one with,

they are my siblings,

the ones I was born with.

They are my peers,

my companions,

my acquaintances,

my deeply passionate lovers.

And I still see them when they burn out,
I know where they were placed

before they made their way across

the dark sky in a burning flash of intrigue…

Reviews

[Shellie]

one word -genius. The concept is incredibly unique and the piece is flawless. WELL well done- this is exceptional writing. Really glad i came across it.

[Brett Campaigne]

I love this poem's darkness and primordiality... Reminds me of something I wrote once : I have the freedom to face away... Not the son of one sun, but a peer of the stars.