cycle

it’s hard to believe i am wanted
when layers of me shed from deep within each month,
eager to escape what’s inside

traces of what has been freed at last
leave rusted marks on my thighs
a perverse, bloody trail leading away from a life forgotten,
a life unlived and unlivable

this contract we sign at birth 
— to beget and abandon —
hangs over my brow like a burgundy veil
dark and earthy, sickly sweet

is it rebirth or endless death?
a cyclical destruction of walls built
to protect the vulnerable pearls that lie in waiting, endlessly

knowing what i will continue to lose,
do you still want me?