Where I come from

Where I come from
Is the stretch-marked tears
Refusing to fall off nana’s cheeks
Because she is cried out
All her children gone
The ones she thought would bury her
Now she holds memories

In her arms of little grandchildren

She will bury before their time.


Where I come from
Is the monochrome
Song that plays not on the lips
But on each breath
Of glue
Sniffed by the young son of another mother
To black out nothingness
Into more nothingness.


Is etched in the thin frowns
Of young girls with no sheroes
To look up to
Young girls whose dreams
Having reached ceiling high
By getting knocked up at 15
And being told they were done for
Have resigned to thinking
This is it
So they stand by street corners at night
For anything willing
To violate the little semblance of sanity 
That remains


Where I come from
wears the face of a WOMAN