“Do you think they can see me?”
I ask myself.
Of course, they can.
They have two eyes and you’re right here.
Alive and breathing still.
Continue reading Disappearing.
The swirl of your tongue
Makes magic at the meeting of me.
Oceans of promise part
My chest rises and I am found
Every few months I get to meet myself again.
I look into the mirror and see a ghost.
Who am I? Where did I come from?
I know it’s me that I’m looking at
but nothing is recognizable.
“I have green eyes,” I tell myself.
This will be over soon,
I remember from the last time.
I am not scared of the stranger in front of me;
I wait with bated breath to know her name.
Don’t look at me any differently.
Don’t cock your head to the side
with a half smile full of pity.
Don’t tell me you’re so sorry.
I wouldn’t change this for the world.
turned me into iron. I fought tooth and nail to stand here.
I bled for this to be over
and now it’s over.
Art Credit: Nour
I’d appreciate you more if you were dead.
Your sinewy arms and wavy hair.
Maybe they would come to me in dreams
instead of nightmares.
Maybe I would wake up smiling.
Why is it
that I’ve been too ashamed to tell my story?
Too scared to speak the words out loud.
They are so ugly surely they would burn off my tongue.
They are so deeply mine
that to utter them aloud
would feel like sleeping with a stranger.
I hope when you look up at me
you see more than surviving.
I hope you can smell gunpowder
on my torn open flesh-
see the wounds dripping from me
and know how hard I fought
to be your mother.
I pray you will fight, too,
because you are worth the war.
Worth should not have to claw
out of your bodies and make itself known.
Worth should live in the pit of your bellies,
festering and felt by you always.
You are not here for one reason;
you are here for a million.
Fight tooth and nail for these if you need to.
Do not survive this world, my daughters;
I felt the damage.
I saw the darkness in you
and wanted to live there.
I curled up against your secrets
and made myself safe
within the familiar scent of anguish.
Photo Cred: Lanaya
I feel like a kid again when I am with you.
17 and shy.
18 and chasing
down the barrel of your loaded gun.
I wanted everything. I needed to feel it all.
A small scratch, a great ache.
As long as it belonged to you and me.
Photo Credit: Lanaya
I am not afraid of the dark anymore.
I have learned to let it wash over me
so that I am cleaner than before you left.
I am friends with darkness now.
I walk through it like I am fine again;
I walk through it like I am not waiting for your ghost.
Photo cred: Nakeysha