In her softest parts she is rosy cheeks and bone meal feeding all the rivers
We're glad you decided to write this down. Very insightful.
The language and musicality is magical in all of this group of poems :)
This poem feels like a raw, intimate look at how a woman carries both pain and beauty in the same breath.
I love how it shows her opening her heart to a world that cuts, yet slipping into a quieter inner place to survive.
The image of wheat bending in the wind captures that quiet strength women learn without ever being taught.
Those folded wings say so much power held close, waiting, praying, enduring.
Her softness isn’t weakness; it’s where life grows, even when it hurts.
The idea of her feeding rivers with bone meal feels almost mythic, like women nourish the world with their own wounds.
I felt the ache in the way she runs toward joy as if she’s surprised it wants her back.
There’s something heartbreaking about stumbling into happiness like it wasn’t meant for her.
The ending hits hard pain pressing its finger into the wound, asking to be healed.
It’s a beautiful, unsettling reminder of how much women carry quietly, and how much strength lives inside that tenderness.
Alina!!! 🤩😍😍🤩😍🤩
My thoughts exactly!! 💖💖💖💖
Women being expected to derive joy from nurturing others, and only through giving— there’s so much more we are here and worthy to experience.
We're glad you decided to write this down. Very insightful.
The language and musicality is magical in all of this group of poems :)
This poem feels like a raw, intimate look at how a woman carries both pain and beauty in the same breath.
I love how it shows her opening her heart to a world that cuts, yet slipping into a quieter inner place to survive.
The image of wheat bending in the wind captures that quiet strength women learn without ever being taught.
Those folded wings say so much power held close, waiting, praying, enduring.
Her softness isn’t weakness; it’s where life grows, even when it hurts.
The idea of her feeding rivers with bone meal feels almost mythic, like women nourish the world with their own wounds.
I felt the ache in the way she runs toward joy as if she’s surprised it wants her back.
There’s something heartbreaking about stumbling into happiness like it wasn’t meant for her.
The ending hits hard pain pressing its finger into the wound, asking to be healed.
It’s a beautiful, unsettling reminder of how much women carry quietly, and how much strength lives inside that tenderness.
Alina!!! 🤩😍😍🤩😍🤩
My thoughts exactly!! 💖💖💖💖
Women being expected to derive joy from nurturing others, and only through giving— there’s so much more we are here and worthy to experience.