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The Interdisciplinary Work of Lyss Warmland.

Posts tagged poem

I’ve been falling in love
with my bellybutton
as it slowly pops out, being
pushed out into the world along
with this someday soon task-
motherhood.

Thicker ribcage where he’s pushed
my organs
up and out of his way as he grows and
for once, my body doesn’t struggle
in fact,
it turns out growing this being
feels like
what I was made for.

No more hip bones
protruding, just
soft curves, softer still.

This body
simultaneously mine/not mine
it’s magic it’s
home
to my baby and I
while we grow us one
just for a while longer.

Sometimes I think I’ll miss him
when he’s not a part of my body
yet I know
I’ll dance in every moment
he breathes on his own
because motherhood is simultaneously
mine/not mine.

Because this body can only hold
temporary truths
as he grows,
this body can be home
mine, his
soft, and softer still.

My grief has looked a lot like
taking the long way home,
ugly sing-screaming to a band all
my friends hate

“I don’t care about anything as much as I used to”

the words another grad school reject
wrote feeling like the ones
I wish i’d written
instead of words with no consistent pattern
no structure
no plan.

But I guess when it comes to grief,
I’ve learned that no plan I make
no work I do
is going to change the simple fact that
I lost them
I might lose this one-
but maybe I won’t.

So when I ugly sing along with
someone who doesn’t know I exist
about beings I’ve lost who never existed
I feel the spark carried by my voice
her words
my meaning
I let it light the candle that
holds some space for hope.

(quote from “Overbite” by Sincere Engineer.)

Give yourself time
even when your people are
impatient.

When they’re used to you either
saving the day
or falling apart
(appearances only)
those are the times,
4am,
waking like you just
ran some sort of marathon,
when you hold yourself
and you reach out
still breathing hard,
to do everything you ever dreamed of

not to prove them wrong
but because it’s your
still-ugly truth.