All of the times
that you wished she was here
- tiny seeds of memory
who grew into longing -
are wrapped up
and swaddled tightly
in your cradle board.
Don’t believe the hype.
The real holy blood
that gave you life
came from your Mother.
<———————————->
Todos los tiempos
que deseabas que ella estuviera aquí
- diminutas semillas de memoria
que creció en anhelo -
están bien envueltos
en tu tablero de cuna.
No creas el bombo -
la verdadera sangre santa
que te dio la vida
vino de tu Madre.
©BrittanyJadeWilson
Comments will be approved before showing up.
The apology and promises of reconciliation just weren´t enough
neither the peppermint mocha or assortment of numbing agents,
they couldn´t erase
or cover up
how broken she was.
Pieces forgotten and long lost
among st the rubble and emotional wreckage
of the generations