Yesterday, my poem was published in South Florida Poetry Journal! (Scroll down to read it.) It's a fairly personal piece for me.
builds an empire as a dishonest queen
I've had chronic pain since I can remember. Doctors refuse to give me anything possibly habit-forming, so the medications I'm on don't do much. I've tried everything but marijuana (illegal here) to claw back a fraction of my life. People ask if I'm okay. I lie and say I am because I have no choice. The narrator speaks of lying more than once.
Lies make people more comfortable than the truth. No one wants to listen to everything that's wrong. It becomes a burden to them. It doesn't matter the harm silence can do.
go form another universe from a useless womb
Women are often seen as broodmares, motherhood the one accomplishment we're expected to reach. Disabled people are expected never to have children. Radiation took my ability to have kids (I never wanted genetic kids), but it's an interesting dichotomy... woman and cripple and survivor.
My pale, fat flesh kneaded into shapes it can't sustain,
At the end of the poem, the narrator addresses the pressure and demands of being reshaped. It might be a lover in the midst of seduction being too rough. It might be the reader demanding that the "fat" narrator become someone else.