the Blood from my Mother
is Thick like Syrup;
Bones don't Crack in this household
i carry the maternal weight
i feel their adamant Will in my Gut;
sit up Straight they say
look him in the eye and hold it
push your Struggle down his Throat
Devour Him Whole.
there is Purpose brewing inside of Me
my Body is ready to Unleash generations of Unrest
i have my Mother's temper;
Volatile at best.
on most days,
i Bleed indefinitely
Crimson drops on paper
turn to Waterfalls
and to the Generations:
let me change this forbidding world for You.