In a poorly lit room
Worn out wooden floors
Laminated perhaps

Tan and brown colors
are splashed everywhere
On walls and linens

Bed in the middle
Next to a wooden box
A coffin of sorts

My heart feels heavy
and I tell myself
Somehow it belongs

In this endless maze
identical rooms
they all have coffins

This place is where
mother delivers
and the baby dies

Unable to run
Can this be a dream?
I open my eyes

This was one of the many vivid and disturbingly lucid dreams I had toward the end of my pregnancy. I wanted to write it down the way it felt and after several attempts, I am going to settle with this version. With the broken, short verses, I am attempting to convey the fragmented pieces of the dream. It wasn’t cohesive, but rather broken up into short scenes, chopped up and put together in an unsettling way. It ended abruptly and inconclusively with me waking up. Lucid dreaming is a well-established occurrence in pregnancy and I was no exception, but putting these dreams into words, has turned out to be a difficult task. I suppose this is as good a start as any! Thanks for reading. 


One thought on “coffins

  1. Parmis,
    All I can say reading this one is “wow”. This poem is frightening, painful, beautiful, powerful, gripping and deep. Writing from dreams can be this way. Dreams are video postcards drenched in feelings sent to us from the unconscious mind. They make rocket-powered poetry. Write all of them you can. Wow.

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