Woman in Two Parts

Woman-hood

Defined and underlined by the man my Wo

Is derived from.

I was wo –

Long before I even got tits

At once an idol and a pariah.

My cunt became a weapon of self-destruction –

A memory of

Violence and the weight of my

Inability

To define myself.

Prayed on like a dying mantis.

A common hole for a common goal,

Right?

Language – insidious and invasive

Like an Osmond’s album on living repeat.

-Sickly and sweet

Sung on a static frizzy loop –

Told

I was nothing more

Or less than

The body

That possesses me.

Could never be man enough

To compete.

And so to retreat –

Retreat –

Fade into wood like a chameleon

In an insecure environment.

Paint on the face

To match the walls –

Of the same

Oppressive place.

And later still –

Crawl from the darkness

Eyes stunted by the light.

Half broken –

Sweep and build a home

Outside of the lines

They drew for me

To colour.

Interlude, breathe,

Softness, expells

Challenge:radical self love

where is the woman

in this soft body

that has been changed

away from woman

but when my medical team

took my chest

and made my body my own

it did not sever

woman

because my identity is more complicated

than that

and my connection to this earth

is this body

that holds these bones and this brain

and it will continue on

with

woman

and i am not disconnected

with the violence

that follows

woman

and that sweater never

covered up

our crime

but this body got me here

to you

and now that the dysphoria

has melted away

i can love the part of me

that is woman

with our experiences eons apart

we can heal together

to love

whichever part of us

that is woman

—————————————————————————-

We would love to read your poems on womanhood.

Email us: riverandceliainunderland@gmail.com

🖤🤍 Celia and River in Underland

If this resonated, share it on Bluesky (or anywhere folks still have an attention span longer than a moth after a sleepless night), leave us a comment, or check out our latest anthologies

Poetry Collection, ‘Is this all we get?’

Prose Collection, ‘ Fifth Avenue Pizza’

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☍ The Underland Review

Out Now.

Read it…

And Weep.

The Underland Review: Issue One – This Zine Is a Lie is now live.

57 pages of soft monsters, glitch-lit poetry, haunted prose, cursed diagrams, and art that shouldn’t exist but does anyway. A digital archive stitched together with pocket lint, rage, and love.

READ THE ZINE

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Keep a high-res PDF in your glitch archive. Every donation helps us print more, distribute wider, and one day pay the beautiful liars who make this possible.

ORDER A PRINT COPY ($5.55 + your soul)

Hold the lie in your hands. Smell the ink. Feel the contradiction.


☍ Submissions for Issue Two Are Open

Deadline: Midnight August 10th, 2025

We’re seeking: poetry, prose, essays, visual art, sound pieces, spoken word, and other beautiful misfits. If it glitches, bleeds, howls, or doesn’t fit in polite company — we want it.

We accept text, image, and audio formats. MP3s, JPGs, PDFs, .docx, strange attachments — bring us your fragments. Collaborative works are welcome.

Email us at: riverandceliainunderland@gmail.com
Subject line: THIS IS A LIE – [Your Name]


Thank you for reading. Thank you for believing in beautiful contradictions.

We were never here.

— River & Celia
Curators of Lies, Underland Division


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