Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash
There was a poison in the mothers before me
It darkened their livers and lined their eyes.
Anger.
Joined by the chord, but separate from them
I thought myself immune.
I seem to be trying to get back to a past version of me
As though she were waiting.
As if I could strip back the layers of years
And she would recognise me.
Some days I barely recognise myself as the foundations continue to shift beneath my feet
Opening casms of change.
I feel as though we have lost the land.
I feel it underfoot.
The earth crumbling
With the weight of each step.
My feet heavier than those
Of my ancestors.
I worry my choices are
Leadening the feet of my children.
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