Content Warning: Reference to alcoholism
Mama,
Did you know that I was born terminally ill?
The same expiration date you got
They gave it to me, too
In that bright, jarring hospital room
Diagnosed woman
Before I was ever gifted person
Born with no umbilical cord
Just a chain attaching me
to every other woman before me
Holding me close to you
A playground’s daisy chain of the hated feminine
But I came out screaming
I rattled the walls of that delivery room like a hurricane
And Mama I will not be silenced
I will be just as loud as you
Demand the space you hollowed out for me and push its walls
Mama, I cannot be angry with you
You did not know you were sick
You never gave anyone the hint
That weakness flowed through you
You disguised your fragility with fierce love
Made shame taste like sweet sacrifice
I cannot be anything but thankful
For this genetic pain
This wound that makes me love
As if love was the same as organ donation
As if wearing my heart on my sleeve was a symptom
The world handed you lemons, Mama
And you did not just make lemonade
You made sunsets stretch out
And forced family out of hollow nothing
I remember nights sipping lemonade
Love on the porch swing we never could afford
You took Dad’s whiskey breath
And stretched it into something I now miss
And they have it out for us
The lion’s den on our porch
Men drinking and laughing with Dad
The ones you told me not to speak to
Mama, I do not have your fear yet
But don’t worry for me
I am learning it
Does he know Mama?
Does he know these men,
Fathers and husbands and friends
Does he know that they would
surely eat me
If given the chance?
By the way he smiles
and picks meat out of his teeth
I want to think he doesn’t
But don’t worry for me, Mama
I am learning still
Mama, I do not wear my heart on my sleeve
Not like I’m supposed to
Mama can’t you see it?
I wear my heart on everyone else’s sleeve
I see myself in every other
woman’s face on this bus
I pray they get home safe
My sisters in battle
Other faces gaunt with my illness
Don’t we all suffer it Mama?
I cannot say I want healing
I do not beg for forgiveness
I bite into the apple with sharp teeth
And a smile so wide it splits my face in two
I cannot be anything but fiercely proud
We are the weeds they could not squander
Dandelions splitting up the concrete
And I see us in everything Mama
We are armed to the teeth
Love and pepper spray and lip gloss tucked into our purses
So I will do what you did.
I will bring a little girl into this world
And when her scream echoes through the hospital
I will listen with pride
I will be Mama before I am person
Exist somewhere between daughter
And sister, and wife
I will enjoy its purgatory for her sake.
When she demands a tea party
With a voice too big for her small chest
I will creak my aging joints onto the floor
And play pretend for hours
I will weave love into empty spaces
Sit her on my lap on our imaginary porch swing
Braid confidence and ferocity into her soft curls
And stretch sunsets long past dark
And when she is sent out into this world
So terrifyingly alone
I will hand her pepper spray
And tell her to look at her sister’s sleeves
I will hope I have done enough so that
She will know what that means.