I must learn again to bond
after losing my first friend, sibling and wombmate.
I must learn again to trust
after feeling abandoned from day one.
I must learn again to share
after losing the first person I ever shared food, water and shelter with.
I must learn again to light the flame of love
after my twin flame was snuffed out.
How can I mourn a loss that was so early?
How can I mourn the loss of someone that only mother and I knew?
I am grateful for all I have today
but I still feel that someone has been missing.
I need to cry 30 year old tears.
If we were home in a Yoruba village
we would have been given a healing ritual and divine guidance
but we lived in the ghetto so loss was expected.
At least this Black male would not know the
pain of stop and frisk, hustling and gun shots
he would die eventually so why not today?
There was no ritual, no tears, no village to raise us;
one on earth and the other in ancestorland.
No knowledge that there is no separation
between the living and the dead.
Just my mother’s silent tears and
my unspoken fear that I won’t ever be able to bond again.
- Reminder about the Challenges and a Correction: Name That Abstract 8 and Poetry Challenge (anexerciseindiscipline.wordpress.com)
- Poetry Challenge Day 17: The Womb (wholeness4all.wordpress.com)
- The Poetry of Personal Loss (aratus.typepad.com)