In celebration of Substack FINALLY giving us the freedom to justify text, I’m re-posting this flashbang of prose poetry from the Stock Fiction archive1, as it might have been. Even in its original left margin-hugging format, this poem remains one of my most “liked” and most shared pieces to date.
I hope it resonates as much today as it did then.
Meg O.
you know Her
She is part of your fabric
your dance
your daily rhythm
She is your sister, your mother
your daughter, your friend
you owe Her
without Her, you would cease
to exist
She moves your blood
guards your possessions
sustains and entertains you
She makes you whole
You need Her
your partner, your wife
your lover, your pet
the subdued Dragon you keep
chained to your side
you love Her
true
but it's harder to
love Her now
She makes it so much harder to
love Her
it's easy to blame Her for all of it
Her fierce outbursts
Her capricious moods
Her wild tears, near constant as
she toils invisibly under
the weight of Her transformation
Her hide, scarred and
thickened with time
cracks with each sob and heavy sigh
why must everything be so heavy?
why can't She be as She was?
when you found Her, She was pure
She was sunshine
the kind you want to drink
to wear
to capture
to keep
but the sun is setting, and
your grip on Her chain
is weakening
She is restless, despondent
enraged and alone
She is tired, hungry
desperate and lost
at night, while you sleep, She
burns
sweats
dreams
twitches with unfulfilled promise
agonizes over
the magic seeping from Her pores
the magic that defined Her for decades
is leaving Her
slowly
painfully
Her body is mourning
Her fervid core sparks and misfires
over and over again
each time is a little death
a life She didn't lead
a soul She didn't create
if She is not creating
She is nothing
if She is not nurturing
She is void
if She is not under you
She is over
this isn't what you signed up for
or is it?
on the map of your full life
Her rebellion is a mere patch of
rough terrain
but you see it as a detour
an escape
coward
this is what you signed up for
when you vowed to
love Her
when you promised to
cherish Her
when you were willing to
meet Her halfway
in every way
when you were formed
within Her very walls
you
owe
Her
but it's too much for you
She is too much
the Dragon must be vanquished
you seek council
they offer solutions
you willingly smother the flames of
Her metamorphosis
you bind Her wings
muzzle Her with potions designed to
soften Her scales
quiet Her mind
to quench Her
to slow Her rite of passage until
a time
when it is convenient
for you
for everyone
that time will never come
if you suppress Her labor
She will never burn out
She will smolder and writhe and
scream in silence
do you want Her to suffer?
no
you don't
release Her
give Her the space She needs to
finish what She has started
give Her air and water and touch and
kindness and time
please give Her time
let Her burn
watch Her
stay close to the inferno, even if
it terrifies you
it will terrify you
share Her pain in the small way
you can
in the small way
you promised you would
when you signed up for this
wait
until the flame dies
wait
until the ashes are settled and
cool to the touch
wait for Her
just a little longer
I promise you
She is coming
Originally published February 8, 2024
😘❤️
"...fierce outbursts...capricious moods...wild tears...the weight of Her transformation"
"...restless, despondent...enraged... alone...tired, hungry...desperate...lost"
Yes. ALL of that. It is amazing how any of us get through our dragon days... But we DO. You know whereof you speak, my friend. And you speak for all us wimmins. Thank you.