today, I met my mother.

age 16.
young. bold. firey. afraid.

running from her body

her violent home


her only solace, her guitar,
which would take her, as wings, to fly someplace safe.


until one day
her father cracked it in half

crashing it
on her head.


today I met my mother, as her mother.

I went back to that home
and stopped the violent man
stopped him before he could hurt her.

not even once.
not ever.

and I took her to a different home.
so she could have a different life.

.......
only, I wasn't born soon enough to be there
when she needed protection.


I was born one generation away from violence.

it is close enough for me to feel,
but far enough for me to grow larger than it.

to heal, nourish myself,
and open my presence
so I can wrap my mother inside it.

I will expand my love
to be so wide and vast

that it can bend backwards in time

and hold my mom,
then, too.


today I met my mother.

age 16.

beaten.

afraid.


I will hold her until she knows she is safe.