my umma
is a woman of many strengths
she can sacrifice her livelihood
to stay in a loveless
abusive
“marriage”
for the sake of her children
she carries the courage to stand up for herself
and
embrace sole responsibility of her kin
with no hand to guide her
she victoriously endures any attempts
to strike her on her knees
help-less
and end up standing on her own two feet
hands on her hips
she is wonder woman
strong
but untouchable
she prides herself on her
iron will
guarded heart
beautiful face
the one she allows the world to see
i’ve always wondered
what lies beneath this mask
what lies inside her heart
that she tries so desperately to
conceal
what is she trying so hard to
protect
what could possibly be more important
more worthy of protection
than the very extension of yourself
painfully
forcefully
birthed into this callous world
since my very first breath
i’ve been desperately
precariously
struggling
to simply peek through
perhaps even scarcely
touch
her core
by wailing
waiting
reaching
fervently
two arms toward her
bruising my own heart
baring my own soul
naked
but
in the process
i’ve sacrificed my conservation
my security
my very essence is
bloody
stripped
raw
seen by all
hidden by none
while not even a nick
has disturbed her impervious treasure chest
i suppose
it’s not always the case
in which a mother is wholeheartedly
vulnerable
warm
trusting
with her own
i just wish it had been my case
i just wish she had prioritized
connection
over
self preservation
i just wish i deeply
knew
this woman i call
my umma
