Poetry

I am a womb twin survivor.


It's taken me years to admit this to myself.


She's the buddy I always wanted to back me up.


The mentor I sought out.


The brainstorming partner I always looked for to bounce ideas off.


The person who just 'got me'.


The one I didn't have to explain anything to because we were in synch.


The one who understood my inner tick-tock because she was there too.


My best friend, my soul mate.


She was also the fire I ran away from if someone got too close, and hers is the warmth I craved when I felt lonely and lost.


Because we were co-joined I always felt a part of me was missing.


She was there in my struggle to conceive my own child,


And finally in the loss of my own womb.


I said goodbye to her in my painting


which I took with me into hospital.


Everyone saw that spark, that connection we had in that painting.


It's now fitting that my own mother has that painting on her wall - it was her loss too.


It's been hard to put my voice 'out there' without the comfort of her cheering me on.


But I have finally accepted the connection I have with myself as real,


Conceived my own life,


Am grateful for my gifts


The pen I can pick up, the stories I write, the paintings I paint


And letting her go, out loud and on this page means


I am at peace.


Amanda