Mournsap - Thorns In The Womb

I carried something that never became, Just a hush behind the bone. No cry, no breath, Just silence in bloom— A garden that grew alone. The midwife wept, the candles sank, The herbs burned low and sweet. I drank the rue, I held the ash, And bled into the peat. ⸻ Yarrow for forgetting, Myrtle for the pain, Elder for the empty room, Thistle for the name. There are thorns in the womb, And they bloom in the dark. No sun ever kissed them, But still they leave marks. They grow from the grief That I buried too deep— And flower in silence Each time that I sleep. They told me time would soften the stone, But mine grew teeth instead. I wake to roots that press the ribs— And names I never said. There are thorns in the womb, And I water them still. With every sigh, With every will, With every herbal spell I failed— ⸻ They grow ⸻ Until I’m filled.