Woman, Tamed Wild.

My survival, my sanctuary
And in it the door
To my heart, my home
A place all remain welcome
Though it sits
Derelict, defeated
And overgrown
In the center, by the cold hearth
I sit alone
Wondering what worth is
When I’m on my own
Do I deserve to feel desire
Or will intimacy
Always be defined by
A youth I’ve struggled
To feel beautiful in, to freely roam?
Will I ever covet myself
The way I’ve been controlled
By others, by those
Who have left me here
Aging—reaped and sown?
The questions are a quiet tune
A sinister, self-sung hum of
Grief, abuse
I search for answers
In the wild, our tamed wild
But the answers are unknown
The answers aren’t my own.