A cyst suspected, growth disguised;
The tumor grows and swells inside
Devouring tissue, eating flesh
My organs ravaged, lump enmeshed
The truth arrives: they can’t be saved
A surgery must now be braved
I heal in silence, drugged and sore
A woman emptied, womb no more
What makes a woman? Does she bleed?
What lies beyond her fertile need?
The crone awaits; a fleck of youth
defies her, standing fierce in truth
My soul emboldened, self awake
A womb does not a woman make
Her arms outspread, her fears depart:
A woman’s worth is in her heart.