Page 27 - NS 2024

The Sin of the Mother Marcel Gibbs
She refuses to look at me.
Despite the vitriol she spits at the sight of me. The disgust and hatred that comes off in waves When I have the audacity to be near her,
As if I am not her own flesh and blood.
And yet, she never looks at me.
It's the most pain she caused me;
Why won't she look at me?
I would take anything,
just one glance.
Why am I being punished just for existing?
Why must I be burdened to be the physical representation of my Mother's sin.
Why must I be shunned
While the monster I'm connected to by blood
Gets your gaze,
Your smile,
Your love.
The one you say was born pure is the darkest out of all of us. At any time you and the monsters blood could have coated my fingers, Flooding the floors and hallways.
But you still exist in my life,
In my presence.
I am the purity you delude yourself into seeing
In the monster I have to call my brother.
Grandma’s Wisdom
When I was fifteen
I came out to my grandmother. She didn’t react well,
But what was I expecting? She lives in another time,
And she stays there.
There’s no adaptation for her
Even if it’s to the detriment of family, Oh, to her sweet grand[REDACTED].