Explaining my tragedy to them
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Poem by: Alice Katherine
He asks, how did you get this scar
I say, while playing chess against my stormy nights
Let me tell you a tale, I say
A tale of
How my nights practise witchcraft on me
How they fool me
How they tear my clothes apart
And their cold light illuminates my breasts and embodies my femininity
That I haven’t yet learnt to fulfil
My nights, they dance on my belly, wearing my skin as a posh party dress
They dig caves through my frozen womanhood, they build railways
Over it, and time travels on them —
My womanhood is a naughty-eyed winter, an ice-land, blinking and glittering
It hides its body under long raincoats —
[I think I’m not worth it]
My nights, they’re sacred
They sometimes get on their knees and pray and chant
And I belt out along deliberately out of tune
Out of desperation
I pull my own hair and drag myself over the railway
These bruises and scars, that’s where they come from —
But ever since I’ve met you
I crave for you to soothe me, to breath me in
To your chest
To feed me wild strawberries with black bread
Then I might win against my nights, my sweetheart
And my body will open as the sky on the brink of apocalypse
I will become a woman
And I will ask myself whether it’s going to rain
And I will answer, I’m raining
© Copyright 2018 Alice Katherine. All rights reserved.
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