There's
Content Note: Emotional isolation, caregiving, and invisibility.
There’s a woman in my lounge
that I love deeply.
In my lounge is a woman of my womb—
but she makes my world,
and somehow,
she gave birth to me.
In my world,
there’s a woman who lives for the breeze—
that crisp, fresh rush of new people
coming through the door.
There’s a woman in my heart
who doesn’t share her tears.
She hides them
from looks, stares, glares—
and even stairs.
There’s a woman left behind—
by others not of her kind,
caring,
or kindness.
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