mother.

did i ever tell you the story

of the grandmother

who never loved me?

the woman

whos blood i must carry

the woman

who is now

a figure

of family mythos?

first

she gave life

to compassion.

a person

who cared first

about others

and then

herself.

next

came perserverance

who never

gave up

in the face

of difficulty

after that

the mentor

someone

who lived

to teach.

the fourth,

independence.

she never

let others

dictate

her path.

the final,

joy

someone

who always

shared

a smile

five sisters.

bound together

by blood

and tears

the creation

of their mother’s

pain.

they took

the joy

the mother thought

they would create

for her.

she had hoped

the more children

she bore

the happier

she’d become

but instead

she descended

further

into madness

and pain.

once, i met her

but i was young, then

i couldn’t see

her

anger

then.

and now

if she met me

she wouldn’t recognize

this person

i’ve become.

“cruel mothers are still mothers.

they make us wars.

they make us revolution.

they teach us the truth. early.

mothers are humans. who

sometimes give birth to their pain. instead of

children. ”

-hate, nayyirah waheed