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Letter to my Ancestors
Forgive me ancestors
For the things I do that trespass you,
See: I am just a girl
Not the magic you have given my mother
Blessing me with her power since I was too young
To realize the strength of womanhood
And braving bodies to bare babies
Nor the wit you have given my father
Who never passed down to me the strength
To slit minds with razor sharpness
But rather the strength to slit wrists
With razor sharpness
See, you forget,
I am what you would call "Troubled Child"
Skin kissed not by the sun
But by intruders
I did not have the strength to say no to
And how is that?
When I am strong enough to carry this burden
Of what they've done to me,
And not strong enough to say a simple word?
That now rolls off my tongue
Like the love I hope you have for me
Love enough to grant the gift of life,
Ancestors,
Is it such a gift to live with this shame?
I suppose that is why I crack this family heirloom of a mirror
So that the shattered glass reflects back
My un-whole self image
And I can scratch, with the shards, my
Nostalgically untouched skin
All I want, but it will never reflect back
The bones of you
We are foundationally different
Though I practice your craft:
Burning incense, burning sage, burning bridges
It's hard to stop burning myself
When I'm surrounded by all this fire within me
As heat rises it blows up
And out of my mouth
Leaving ashes of consequence
Every mark I make burns and crumples to
The ground
Like the witches before me
Who simply practiced what they were
And were killed...
Sound familiar?
Repressing sexuality does not become of you
Repressing you to merely a statistic
Dear ancestors,
I've learned that history repeats itself
And I am stuck in a rut of rehearsal
Dedicatedly yours,
Angel
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This piece is very personal to me. I wrote it during a time when I was very low, and that is reflected in lines which allude to self-harm and lack of self-esteem. I wrote this piece to the ancestors of my family, wishing for forgiveness and to explain my choices.