Letting go and forgiving myself coz otherwise I’ll be tired forever.Â
I come from a long line of women —Â
mouths wired shut from oppression —
who didn’t really have any choices.Â
So when they could choose
They made mistakes,Â
And were punished.Â
Because there was no blueprint.Â
No centuries of other women.
Owning their minds,Â
Their bodies, Â
Their babies.Â
I come from a long line of oppressed women,Â
Hearts —
ice-cold from loneliness. Â
Who didn’t really have any choices.Â
So now that I’m choosing
I’m still making mistakes.Â
I’m starting to own my mind,Â
I hope to own my body —Â
Not letting others dictate my desires.Â
And I pray my babies will feel freer than a blue sky,Â
On a fiery summer day. Â
Making all the choices they want, without the burden of fear.
Like the warriors they were meant to be.
Beautifully said
Very true