As I hung upside down from my family tree
I asked my mother if she resented me
She smiled with wind-chime clarity
Refusing to acknowledge my self-penalty.
She shook her head to disagree
My mother politely said to me,
“You will not understand. You will not see
Until that day the veil calls me
And my face you can no longer see
Just how much you’re loved by me.
But do not worry, do not despair,
For I’m not going anywhere.
My fire won’t die, you’ll hold the spark,
As I pass the torch of the matriarch.”
Tag Archives: loss
Nudity Not Optional
Where did my clothes go?
You know,
the warm, comfortable,
perfectly fit ones
with the beautiful colors
that complimented my
every move?
When did I get so naked?
You know,
the raw and futile
belief that everything,
no matter how small,
would keep me warm?
How did I lose my skin?
You know,
the one I felt at ease within
no matter what I tried
to accomplish;
the skin that held my confidence?
Has anyone seen my hair?
You know,
the hair that curtains my face
when I don’t want you to see
that the world isn’t as kind
as I wanted to believe?
What about my feet?
My hands? My hips? My breasts?
You know,
the ones that used to run away
when things got hard?
The ones that comforted tears,
raised the roof, fledged passions?
The ones that balanced my lost clothes
at my side as a mother to a child?
The ones that begged for attention,
offering supplication to the needs?
Where did my clothes go?
Why am I saw raw and naked?
Mare Martell 
