Metamorphasis

I saw this book cover (decidedly cooler than the vision it inspired) on Pinterest last night and it must have stayed in my head because I semi-woke up in the middle of some early hour this morning and thought I should write a poem about how Kafka's story related to the feeling of pregnancy. I've gained considerable (though not unhealthy, I admit with a grimace) weight since becoming pregnant which is an entirely new experience for me and has been a more difficult self-esteem battle than I had expected. When I see my body, I mostly notice how fat various parts look and I'm a little shocked because I literally thought that was impossible for me, as vain as that sounds. I'd taken my previous shape for granted and never understood why so many women grumble about their struggles with body image. I did not particularly enjoy Kafka's Metamorphosis and am holding on to hope that I'll stop feeling like a worm and someday soon-ish feel like I've emerged from the cocoon. My poetry of late hasn't been hugely impressive either, but that's no reason not to write it. 













To give up my shape
is more sacrificial than I had imagined
and reminds me of Kafka
though there is joy in my metamorphosis

i'm further and further
from a back-up career in glamour
but your precious bulge about me
is worth the shiny scars

muscles, bones and joints
creek and squish around you
and my newly dimpled thighs
are horrifyingly worm like

i am busy focusing
on the promise of the cocoon
breaking away to give me you
and revealing my wings again

I've experienced very little glow
and only begrudgingly filled out my curves
but it will still be worth it
if I have to give away all my skinny jeans


written 9/26/12