“it’ll take the edge off they say” by Natasha Murdock
but I am made of edges
edges of elbows & guilt & feet & baby
edges staring me in the face—pain
managed through natural techniques—
as if these edges that rip up my spine
& ribs & lungs are natural
as if disappointment isn’t just
another edge to jump off
as if lifting one thing doesn’t
expose one other thing to pain
as if preparing to be split into two
is as easy as scribbling down
a wish to be whole
About the poet Natasha Murdock
In her visceral and introspective poem “it’ll take the edge off they say,” Natasha Murdock confronts the complexities of womanhood, pain, and the contradictory expectations surrounding childbirth and the female body. The poem is part of her powerful collection sign on the dotted line to release the record, a 2017 National Poetry Series winner that investigates the terrain of motherhood, sexuality, and identity with both lyrical precision and unflinching honesty.
Summary
The speaker begins by identifying herself not as a cohesive whole but as “made of edges”—physical, emotional, maternal, and psychological. These edges include elbows, feet, guilt, and the omnipresent baby. From the outset, Murdock positions her body and experience within a framework of fragmentation and pain. The poem takes aim at the idea that pain can be managed with “natural techniques,” exposing the absurdity of pretending that such suffering is easily soothed or inherently noble.
She interrogates the romanticization of “natural” pain and questions societal platitudes about endurance and sacrifice. The poem’s imagery is sharp and layered: edges “rip up” the spine and ribs, and disappointment is just “another edge to jump off.” The final lines crystallize the central tension—how the act of preparing to be “split into two” during childbirth is anything but natural, or easy. The wish to be whole stands in stark contrast to the reality of being divided, physically and emotionally.
Analysis
Murdock’s use of enjambment and line breaks creates a sense of breathlessness and fragmentation, echoing the speaker’s bodily and psychological experience. The repeated invocation of “edges” reflects both the literal sensations of pain and the metaphorical contours of a life being reshaped by motherhood. Each edge carries weight—some cutting, some unavoidable, some anticipated but still overwhelming.
The poem critiques the cultural narrative that positions maternal suffering as noble or desirable. In doing so, it pushes back against both traditional and modern expectations placed on women: to endure, to perform, to manage pain gracefully, and to emerge from childbirth somehow stronger or fulfilled. Murdock turns the medical and cultural jargon of childbirth—“natural techniques,” “pain management”—into sources of irony and critique, revealing how language itself can obscure the brutal truths of embodied experience.
There’s a quiet rage beneath the surface of this poem, a defiant refusal to accept pain as virtue or silence as strength. And yet, the final line—“a wish to be whole”—offers a glimmer of longing, if not hope. It’s a wish that resonates with anyone who has felt the world’s expectations carve into their identity.
Murdock’s poetic voice is sharp, intimate, and undeniably essential in the contemporary conversation on gender, motherhood, and bodily autonomy.
Want to learn more about Natasha Murdock’s work and poetic journey?
Click here to visit her poet bio page on AZPoetry.com »