#Poetry: “Basement Mother” by Elisabeth Horan

“You married such a sick woman
do you regret it now?
The way I’ve tortured us for years
the way I burned the house down –
I made the children, I made the beds
left in disarray; tatters, unstable teens
haunt me like a rotting womb
the bodies I grew in it, now untombed

Released from me, into the light
I seethed and hissed retreated back
down the stairs to my dungeon
dragging a stained placenta…”

-Read the entire poem at Burning House Press

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