whoever gave the swallows their morning song
to watch my babies
May they be invisible to those with bad intentions
and may their faces fall gently
on the eyes and hearts of those
entrusted to care for them
IT’S TAKEN MANY YEARS
BUT I THINK I FINALLY LOVE YOU ENOUGH
TO LET YOU BE YOU
my wish for you
is that one day
you see yourself
the way I see you
the world doesn’t deserve you, child
but it needs you
shine
burn it down
build something better
dear mother,
our daughters watch us
to see what they’ll be expected to be
and our sons watch us
to see what they’ll be able to get away with
I didn’t realize how dangerous it is
to be a woman
until watching my girl grow into one
filled me with equal parts pride
and fear
Over my dead body
will my son
become a man
who hurts women
I believe these boys
will be better men
because for the first time
we’re allowing them to cry
“You can get it yourself”
I tell my son
and in the distant future
I hear his spouse whisper,
“Thank you.”
That moment when your child
Turns a certain way
And you get a glimpse
Of the adult version of their face
The stillness of a house
pregnant with sleeping children
is like a garden
after a rainstorm has drenched every
last inch
will they remember all the yelling?
or the morning hugs and kisses?
the s’mores on camping trips?
or the massive stack of dishes?
that I was always tired?
or the way a mud pie squishes?
take the best
discard the rest
for that is what my wish is
APOLOGY
Dear children,
I had dreams of the mother I would be
Painted in the hues of honey-glazed roasts and fluffy mashed potatoes
Little did I know that I’d be raising myself along with you
My most difficult child
And so the roasts dissolved into grease-spotted bags of fast food
delivered with a side of steaming guilt
and instead of homemade strawberry tarts dusted with powdered sugar
cooling on a rack in my perfect vintage kitchen
we eat ice cream
from plastic Tupperware
on the couch
Our life is not a magazine spread
Or an Instagram dream
But in lieu of that magic
I give you
Me
Hoping that it’s enough
In these days
of autumn apple picking
endless laundry
bedtime stories
chocolate milk afternoons at the park and
morning cuddles, your sleepy body draped on mine like heavy fine linen,
my hope, dear child,
is that your cup may be full
overflowing
with so much golden, sweet, creamy, buttery love
that when you’re grown
and people’s greedy sips or careless bumps
spill what we’ve brewed
you’ll remember the Play-Doh at the kitchen table
birthday cake for no reason
frosting dotted with rainbow candies
and your heart will grow warm
filling your cup again
and again
forever
On the bed of my imminent passing
it will not be the gold I’ve acquired
or applause I’ve earned
that will bring a peaceful smile to my lips.
My comfort
my courage
will come from knowing
that it was in my heart
If I could give you
the promise of a life
without a sea of lonely tears
I would
If I could give you
the promise of a life without
the pain of heartbreak
I would
If I could give you the promise
of a world of justice and peace
I would
But all I can give you are the
soft kiss of my lips
on your forehead
whispers of comfort
in your ears
my arms wrapped
tightly around your
warm body
in the hope that my love
burrows itself into your
bones
So that no matter what may come
you will heal
dear mother,
we can’t prevent all of their tears
but we can hold them
while those tears fall
Some days I wish your heart
still beat within me
so that I could protect you
with my skin
my ribs
But if mother birds can let go
maybe so can I
RISING
Who is going to raise me
while I raise them
Motherhood transforms you into a
Swiss Army knife
A napkin
A task manager
A bag full of solutions
A soft, flesh-covered robot
programmed to anticipate needs
put out fires
Where did I go?
IF I’D KNOWN HOW LONELY
MOTHERHOOD WOULD BE
I WOULD HAVE
BROUGHT A BOOK
What if the children we have are no accident,
Perhaps in the heavens, our souls
embraced in the dewy sparkling expanse
before drawing straws
to decide which one of us would be the parent
and which one the child
I hope I look
as motherly
as other mothers
My motto began as “breast is best”
then melted into “breast is good”
then, after a river’s worth of tears
and an afternoon with wise women who survived
despite being burned at the stake of their own expectations,
became “feed the child”
my biggest fear
is that my mind
will always be as messy
as my kitchen counter
motherhood doesn’t push you
out of your comfort zone
it takes the comfort zone
blends it with tequila
and forces you to
take shots
dear mother,
your life will get better
when you are able to hand your baby
to someone you trust
and go away for a bit
motherhood exp
oses
new sources of bliss:
grocery shopping alone
driving alone
bathing alone
peeing alone
because it’s only when solitude is rare
that it becomes exponentially sweeter
They say you’ve made it when the bills all get paid
or report cards are a salad of Bs and As
or when the marriage is just right
or when the house is yea big, just so, sitting in the right zip code
But I tell you now
that no one is happier
than the parent
lost in the unbothered laughter
of their child
One day you wake up
the same age as your parents
when they had you
and you realize
they never had a chance
I liked you on our first date
loved you on our wedding day
But the day my heart was lost forever
to yours
was when I watched you hold
our little one
cradling the product of our devotion
in your arms
There is nothing that melts the heart
like watching a man whose currency
has always been his strength
exhibit unabashed tenderness
toward a child
the best part of
marriage with kids
is having someone
who’s as excited about
the silly things they do
as you are
LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHILDREN
Love under normal circumstances is difficult
But add a baby or two
A toddler or three
And suddenly it feels impossible
Two exhausted, confused hostages
Unable to fight their captors
Reduced to battling each other
With sleep-deprived, clumsy tosses of
Passive-aggressive grenades
Both convinced that if the other would just
Do this
Or do that
Everything would be better, when in fact
All they both want
Is to be reminded
That they,
In this tornado called family,
Still exist
Are still seen
And are still loved
Don’t say you love me
if you aren’t helping
Because love in the time of children
begins and ends with an empty sink
dear mother,
you are more than a wedding photo
more than a last name
never let a carefully crafted image
become the prison you die in
She is a single mother married
Rich in a male last name
Ring and ceremony
Photos to post
Life orchestrated
But single
Single in the duties it takes
To keep the house going
Working days, scrubbing nights
Single in the child-rearing
Given the occasional afternoon off
As he babysits his children
Reluctantly
She leaves a note
Meal prepared
Diapers out
Won’t be long
Making it easy
She is single
in her thoughts
the joys and pains in her heart
unshared in the home
overshared online
Because she’s a single mother, married
Her dowry was her dreams
And her reward is an illusion
dear mother,
tell me about what you’re selling
candles, lotion, oils
because I know a woman with her own money
is a woman with options
IF YOU’RE TIRED OF ME
IMAGINE HOW TIRED OF ME
I AM
if I promise to blame myself
for how I am
will you promise
to stop?
dear mother,
your partner leaving
says more about them
than it does about you
As much as I want him
need him
I say no
because each time
he turns this home upside down
I am the gate
that cannot afford to be broken
dear mother,
you have permission to leave
the situation that is hurting you
and your babies
Women don’t marry for a partner
they marry to have worth
because there’s no one society hates or
distrusts more
than a woman without
a man to serve
I don’t want to hear about
The flowers he gives you
The vacations you’re on
Or the new, beautiful house you’re buying
Not because I’m jealous
But because I can imagine those things
Tell me about how you learned to trust
How you make it through life damaged
Because that’s where my imagination
Cannot go
My secret desire is for
someone
anyone
to love me as much as I love
these children
dear mother,
you will survive this
new, small apartment
unfamiliar neighborhood
no friends or family
dwindling bank account
cooking from freezer scraps
scrimping on heat
you will survive
just like I did
because you’re made of more than flesh and blood
you are made of starlight
and forged in fire
I’M NOT BROKEN
I'M SIMPLY AN ORANGE
IN A BASKET OF APPLES
TRYING MY BEST
TO LOOK RED
From time to time
I find myself
empty-armed
yet swaying
from side to side
or gently bouncing
All that time,
was I comforting my child
or myself?
The unspoken work of motherhood
is keeping one’s demons on a leash
pulling them back
muzzling their snarling mouths
slick wet razor sharp teeth
and though our arms might burn
with the constant strain
we hold on
on the day they handed out brains in heaven
I overslept
all that was left was this one
kind enough
but unequipped
not at all calibrated for earth
full of imaginary fears
and major malfunctions
but it was the only one left
so forgive me
I overslept
Of all the things I pass down to my children
I hope this brain
is not one of them
broken family heirloom
dear mother,
make a necklace out of your guilt
put it in a pretty box
and never wear it again
I wish I could love
Myself as tenderly as I do my children
Forgive myself the way I forgive them
Wrap myself in my own arms
Wipe away my tears
And whisper, “It’s okay, I love you”
And believe it
Be careful how you speak about
yourself
for your words will become
your daughter’s mother tongue
WHAT A SHAME IT WOULD BE
TO HATE THE BODY
THAT BIRTHED YOUR HEART
When I was younger
with a stomach that held itself in
I felt most beautiful when I looked at my reflection
in the mirror
Now that I’m older
with a tummy that remembers
the souls who passed through it
I feel most beautiful when I look at my reflection
in your eyes
If babies ruin bodies
we must redefine perfection
because how can ushering life into the world
be done by
anything less than perfect?
Love tore through my body
Leaving it stretched
And dimpled
Unfilled lakes of skin