I come from a line of broken women
like broken rivers singing in a broken song
where the water starts to moan
turns to mud
turns to stone
and she is left wandering trying to find her way home
without a map
leaving her feet bloodied and bruised
until she gets tired and picks up those stones
and instead of finding her way back to the water
she turns on her daughter and says
look at what you made me do
look at this blood on my shoes
look at all you took from me
look at this blood on my knees
look at my broken body
look at me
she is thirsty without the water
I come from a line of broken women
like broken rivers singing in a broken song
moaning for the sun to set
yet it doesn’t and she is lost without her map
because this is a daughter whose mother
never found her way back to the water
and she was left bloodied and bruised
passing these stones to you
but daughter
let me tell you
that life comes even from broken rivers when you open up your chest and let the rain fill it and empty it over and over again
these stones were not meant for your feet
or for putting blood on your knees
these stones are your way
back to the water
from my third poetry book, Made of Earth.
