• koreblack 5w

    Motherless Daughters


    I walk a fishing line tightrope of trauma bonding and empathy
    Soles slipping to grip the balance right in between
    the weight of me
    either threatens or begs
    to move in any direction

    The girls or women or muses around me ground me
    with wet eyes and hungry bellies growling to be filled
    with love or liquor or recognition
    envisioning a life less like an orphanage
    building palaces of art or lovers or money or belongings

    longing to belong dry mouths parched
    backs arched to breaking
    aching for the womb
    consumed by others taking everything they can
    I collect girls that were robbed

    but never broken

    maybe broken but always rebuilt filled in with gold
    like that old Japanese art that takes the pieces
    and puts them back together again 
I’m putting myself back together with them
    I try and be more gold than clay

    Are we adults playing dress up or children playing house
    Dousing ourselves in designer scents
    Lipstick teeth clenched holding in resentments
    trying not to fuck things up
    knowing that we probably will

    I love girls that carry their guilt with grace
    Like silk slips and well-preserved lace
    mine catches and tears on every rough surface
    I’m the rough surface that ruins valuable things but I’m
    Trying to be a valuable thing in spite

    of my spite

    I want everyone to be my sister
    I once pretended to be someone’s sister so I could see them
    In the hospital and I also was an actual sister
    sitting visitor in an ICU - so if you’re wondering if I see you
    I always do

    I see you crawl into my arms and cry and I
    shouldn’t have told you not to
    It wasn’t that I didn’t want you
    to feel - I just wanted to steal that sorrow from you 
and bury it in the bottomless pit of my stomach

    We are good at swallowing ourselves inside out
    Adept at doubting that if we allowed our own wants
    to be known we’d be alone all over again
    When will we be more gold than clay
    Unafraid to be more than a daughter without a mother

    at least we have each other