I'm trying as much as I can not to enjoy the storms.
Not to prefer the thorns to the roses-out of habit.
I'm trying to love the stillness of the sea.
The satisfying view of the line of the horizon.
I'm trying not to let the wars inside out, not to let ugly stories fall into friendly ears.
I'm trying to be easier to love, not easier to see.
I'm trying not to use strength when is it love that's asked of me.
I'm trying not to talk about my father and the fights that follow me inside my dreams.
Or about my mother who caused a loneliness that burned a whole right through my existence.
YOU ARE READING
Purple blush
Poetry''Everything you did to me, I remember. Mama, I made it out of your home alive, raised by the voices in my head. '' -Warsan Shire, Extreme girlhood
