untitled 7.14.18

when he comes

the hair clumps in hand

he will root them back

like flowers in the spring

when the dirt

becomes mud

it will grow again

somewhere else

i will grow again

somewhere with-in

-sheila c

Advertisements

baby

when you sprang forth from her

did you have any idea

that your embattled mass

would be the proud flesh

she would hold in her arms?

that your life

was tied to her life?

that her life

was your life ?

that she like our sisters

all bleed in their beds

because all of our beds

are the same

and we will always

bleed in them

some of us

more than others

but we will always bleed

in them

there is with your breath

a battle cry

one that she labored for

that she pushed out

for your strength

baby, you were not born

you were birthed

and so on

and so on

– Sheila C.

prayers

I think about my grandmothers prayers

under a sunburst ceiling

it was an old blood color

sort of red brown and muddied

I think she wanted my freedom

and god couldn’t see another way

I clearly can’t give life

I’m all dead leaves inside

a manufactured product

of a man who did not hold me

i can’t use your god’s tools

they were never meant for me

– Sheila Cordova