have mercy on me | a poem

I have your wailing in my bones

your incessant period pains

you in that bed, women ceremony

deathbed tribe, hold my hand

you loved it religiously

the falling apart, spotlight

you loved to hurt

only then you’d exist

only then they’d pay you attention

come into my room

look, the pain I can endure

you performed a period saint

holy in her bed, leaking

and you disgusted me

because you were so empty

so devoid of life

I’d never seen you smile

you accommodated the violence of men

and found comfort in your period pain

because they wouldn’t touch you then

you’d be safe and felt so strong all of a sudden

as if you could take on the world from your bed

your stained sheets, holding our mother’s rigid hands