Jennessa Hester
Womb Envy
Dear Doctor Freud,
I read in your book on narcissism about how girls envy the penis. What a mind you have!
I was wondering if you could explain somewhere in your next book
why
as i rise every morning
beneath that overbearing sun
my body screams.
precious little baby me
strangled to death.
it’s a miscarriage miss
number three-six-three-three.
and as i shed again my dreams
i feel as though these bones
belong to someone else.
why
at the hour of runny eggs
i close my eyes, but still
i feel that face hiding
here, in my silver spoon
here, in my facebook feed
here, in my attached cv
here, in my filthy window
overlooking dead grass
and not-quite-abandoned playthings.
why
as that fucking sun
pisses the day away
drunk on its own light
i feel long, red scratches
appear in batches on my skin.
here they are again
the faint traces of names
like alexis or alexandria.
the same ones carved
in my notebook.
the same ones carved
on the hearts of all the people
my body disappointed.
why
i sup, i sulk, i shove
another finger down my throat
gagging on unfamiliar skin until
oh my god, my water broke!
it finally broke!
it broke! it broke! it broke.
and as the shitter soaks up all
the shrimps or steaks or sausage links
i could never carry to term
i feel like a teenager
for the first time, again.
why
as i lie in that sun’s fucking shadow
swaddled in this blanket
i’ve had since birth
i feel tiny kicks in my belly
dewdrops on my cheeks
a heartbeat that isn’t
my own
and i pray that god abort
all
this
emptiness
inside.
Help me, doctor.
What does my penis envy?
what 500 tokens gets you
on a line from George Herbert's ‘Prayer’
softness and peace and joy and love and bliss
formless feelings feigning form through
soft slut skylar bad bitch blair
mistress morgan ts taylor
chime a shy thank you
chime a softcore tease
her eyes softened
by mac black lash and sephora soft glam
lips alive
with love and lust and subtle softbox light
skin saturated
by a software plugin that boosts the reds
chime a piece of clothing drops to the floor
chime her soft slender body in a silk bralette
he slides on
soft cotton panties from victoria’s secret
pulls out
the small vibrator he heard about from sex and the city
rubs rubs rubs
his body with la mer moisturizing soft cream
chime a soft cell strip show
chime “touch me baby” he coos along
his vision soft and blurred
he gazes at the screen and sees
a piece of meat a modern queen
softness to own softness to be
chime her lovense vibrates
chime his rabbit vibrates
he grows hard and soft
to the blissful moans of their fake orgasm
Jennessa Hester (she/they) is a transgender writer and scholar working out of Lubbock,
Texas. She serves as a managing editor for the Iron Horse Literary Review, and has
previously worked in a variety of programs designed to bring literature, poetry, and
international cinema to local communities. You can find her on Twitter @cherrypoppunk.