breathing life into words is to hold them in your belly/ they stretch but do not bruise my esophagus/ they burn holes in my intestines/ i cry bcause they are heavy and it hurts/ do not hold them in your mouth/ or you will suffocate your newborn children honey sweet/ they will die a life of rage/ and come back to haunt you

what can sway the path of the mightiest river?

who can soothe her anger?

who can ride her waves?

who dare swim to the bottom of her womb and becomes afraid of what he will find?

i have lost

the keys to my own house

how foolish of me

to hand them over to you

you, who has no lips to see and no mouth to hear

you, who has spit on the ground of your ancestors

let me in or allow yourself to be destroyed

it burns a hole in my stomach

when they sing your anthems 

i dig underneath my fingernails until i bleed

my knees tremble with rage, wonder and longing

a few days later when no one is around i attempt a spin on the blue linoleum floor of my kitchen

i falter but i do not fail

a month later i attempt again

my father catches me mid spin : “who are you dancing with”

“the moon” i say  

“maybe then she will notice me”

eve put the apple back onto the tree   

the serpent slithers away

eve crumbles like a burning house

and is placed neatly back into adam

“for dust you are and to dust you will return”

the creatures of the earth bow into the earth

the fish disappear from the sea, the birds from the sky

the moon and the stars and the sun lose their light

the plants and trees shrivel up into nothing

the land gone and the sea drained out

the sky twisted back into darkness

and the light went out

and god, he was pleased

i am a proud mother of children who rip my body to shreds

i bathe them one by one

comb their hair

rub oil into their skin until it glows

in turn my sons rip the hair from my head

punch me in the stomach 

until my womb becomes a crumpled shivering mess on the floor

terrible are the lies they tell:

that i am unworthy of love, arrogant, full of pride

if only they would ask: i did it all for you

2.

i should have gotten the abortion when my father told me

“they will cause you nothing but a life of shame”

3.

but 

instead

i pick up the gun and start to shoot 

my lungs screamed to me in agony:

“we are thirsty”

who am i to refuse this small request?

i was 12 when i lost my religion 

bright and early sunday morning

country baptist, middle pew, chewing gum, ennui

words filter through: ‘eve’ ‘women’ ‘blame’ ‘temptress’ ‘banished’ ‘pain’ ‘suffering’

a pang of guilt

a pang of regret

could any sister of mine be capable of such an evil?

surely, no sister of mine 

1.

i shattered 12 of my teeth yesterday afternoon

trying to remember the sound of your name in my mouth

i stuttered until my tongue was raw

2.

mother, did i kick too hard when i was in your womb?

did you dream that this is what i would become?

3.

did i frighten you? 

4.

do i frighten you?

5.

my arms are outstretched to a mother who doesn’t remember the names of her children 

i have bullet holes in my chest and a rope around my neck

there is blood seeping from beneath my dress

6.

mother, won’t you read me a bedtime story?

won’t you sing me your beloved national anthem?

7.

i turn my face away from you, you said in shame but it was not without a heart full of stones and feet in shackles