A poem by Willa Bennett: goose eggs




The womb was never warm enough for me. That’s why I like alcohol.




as a child, i was always mesmerized by families who sat around the table during supper.

the children were told how to eat properly with cutlery, and how to hold the knife so they would cut their food without making any noise against their plates.


i knew how to use cutlery too.

i sat across from another one of my mother’s boyfriends imagining what i would do if i was just a bit older.




it is 4:05 am and i think intimacy can be reduced to a series of moments when you feel like an unborn child not yet touched by human hands.

but since you’re held in the first moments of being born, the rest of your life is spent trying to not feel so alone.




i think there are goose eggs in my belly.

i’m sorry if this makes you think of me any differently.

I am just far away from home.




Poetry & photography by Willa Bennett

Originally published in Issue 11 of That’s What She Said Magazine. To read the full magazine, visit:  https://issuu.com/uobfemsoc/docs/twss_issue_11


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