Host

Sometimes it feels like we carry the weight of the world on our bones

We collapse under our own stories

Anxiety sits in the part of the body that has made, has carried, has lost

We are the hosts of birth and death

This is not your maternity

It's a wound in the flesh, it's a reality

And emotion is a process a changing state

And birthing is a process a potential fate

Reality it's a reality

It's my reality it's my reality

It's the pain of it

And something's been lost

It's a grief that has an unknowing cost

Reality it's a reality

It's my reality it's my reality