I Regret Being That Woman

Those many long days I worked hard

Holding the IV basket

Filled with butterfly needles, tourniquets, alcohol pads

Walking from OR unit to internal medicine 

And from GY oncology to surgical floor hours past midnight

In the heart of city of Baltimore

Thinking of my babies sleeping next to my husband in bed

I regret those early mornings, late nights

Pressing my eyes on those books

Memorizing the anatomy of canine and molars

And the position of the tray on the roof of my mouth

Searching for the meaning of Melancholy,

The meaning of life between pages, time after time

I regret working Saturday through Friday

Long days, and not for a moment

Listening to the voice of the woman in me

To my womb, to my tired, swollen legs

I regret not being a woman. Instead I kept being

   A mother, a wife, a daughter and self less

There was a time with height of

My dreams and desires, that I ignored

Finally I only can be a woman 

I listen to my tender skin, to the novel in my heart

And a poem in my eyes

To my tired legs and thinning hair

Now I’m the woman I never was

Maybe I can catch up with whatever’s

Left of the woman

.I ignored and silenced for so long