Didn’t they teach you child?
Teach you to soften your tongue,
become like clouds,
like molten lava bubbling,
in place of saliva,
let it burn your skin child,
Didn’t they teach you child?
Made you soft like the birth of children,
how limp the body becomes,
she turns into a soldier after wailing from the pain
power surge that bolts into her arms,
the screams of ancestors scripted into her skin,
Didn’t they teach you child?
How to be strong?
what love was supposed to be like?
oh what a word like the word love,
urdu being the only tongue I seem to encapsulate the true complexities of this,
the hidden tongue,
I speak both,
basic and heartbreak,
what do I know?
I know nothing,
Didn’t they teach you child,
what it is to be Woman,
to be a Whole,
and to broken down at the edges of the world,
but yet the Woman who was supposed to make me
cut me into little shattered stars,
La Loba,
that is who I am
Wild Woman,
in worship of the women of the hidden world
the underworld.
I am hidden.
I am seen.
I am not meant to be made for this world
And maybe I am lesson ,
to show parents not to have kids that aren’t wanted.
To show to the world, never to give birth to children,
who aren’t wished to be born,
maybe if I was aborted,
been taken into the trees,
been accepted into the earth,
a place more like home,
and maybe if her illness didn’t sink so deep into her temples,
if she could finally breathe again,
maybe if she got help,
maybe if she didn’t have me,
or us three,
maybe if she wasn’t ruined by the women before her?
or her sisters who seem so sunken in the chase after men,
and maybe they aren’t so bad either,
never having experienced freedom,
maybe they all are broken.
Broken women,
laying silently with broken men,
ingesting all that was oppressed,
then feeding and giving birth to boys and girls,
who were never wanted,
a simple cycle,
a ritual,
I was born out of a ritual,,
devils aren’t cast here,