A deserted womb

It cries with me. Abandoned and deserted like me. It weeps and bleeds, it quivers and pulsates. My womb and I are one. The pain is one, the yearning is one, the attachment is one. Will it detach, release itself, let go? Will we eventually succeed to detach, release, and ascend? The pain isn't just big, it has taken over my very existence, for many years on end. Still learning, still honing. Still shifting, moving, changing. I long for the day where we could both breathe the fresh air of freedom, and containment. I dream of endless days floating and flowing without boundaries, weights, and sit backs. An abundance of generosity in every corner, in ever shape and form. A flood of light and warmth. Healing, soothing, belonging. Containment, an no particular reason to exist. No give or take, just a flood of light, pushing every thing in (my) existence towards flowing and floating, until the very end... Or endlessly.