Afterbirth

Have me! Own me!!

Bury me tenderly in your womb, Mommy dearest. Let me hear

for myself

if your heart truly holds a beat for me.

I need some comfort right now. A gentleness only a mother could give,

though I know,

I just need to suck it up, and push it all out of my mind

and just deal with things, right?

Because that’s just the way life goes, correct?

And no one is ever going to care so neither should I.

I don’t think you honestly believe the lopsided advice you give me.

I think that life beat you down so hard

that you just gave up.

You lost hope. You turned down your lamp to faith.

But I see your pain, Mother.

I see a system that had let you down as well.

Generational toxins,

recycling themselves, yet, with each revival,

it all becomes more venomous and unnerving than even our ancestors

could have imagined

would spring from under their aprons and belts.

I understand you were mistreated. Misunderstood. Misused.

There was never anyone in your corner rooting for you either.

No one to support you

or to encourage you to dream and wish on stars.

I understand the difficulty in breaking habits induced from trauma.

And though I know your advice is more to

exonerate yourself from taking any responsibility for your own mistakes,

I still sloppily forgive you.

My footsteps in early life may have been behind your unstable wavering,

but my seasoned voice,

my voice will speak loud enough that even the frightened child hurting inside of you

will smile, too, Mother.

This is for every little girl who was seen but not heard.