For the Woman Who Made Me This by Elizabeth Gomez

The person I yearn for most in this state of heartache, is she who molded my heart with half of hers.

I have been broken into a child and I crave the arms that lulled me to sleep twenty-three years ago. 

I am so tired.

Forgive me mother,

For I have loved a man into oblivion, and allowed him to tear apart a soul you took 9 months to create.

I am five again. 

And climbing onto your lap for a bedtime story. 

One in which happy is everlasting, and love conquers all.

Pet my hair lightly, until I can no longer feel his hands on me. 

I am 13 again. 

And confused with all the changes. 

Teach me that my body will bleed along with the cycles of the moon. 

Until I learn that a woman’s body will shed anything that no longer serves her, and renew itself each time. 

I am 17 again. 

Soft and naive. 

All of the things that men will hunt me for. 

Wipe away my tears. 

Until I stop being water and become earth again. 

Fertile soil.

Fertile soul. 

Where flowers bloom from within the cracks.

I am twenty-three.

Dust me off from another lesson. 

Embrace my bones into the woman you’ve taught me to be.

You made me all love mami.

Show me how to keep it for me.

By: Elizabeth Gomez

Follow Elizabeth: @Thelizgomez