Say Her Name

These aren't just poems of my childhood. These are pieces of memories, feelings I couldn't say out loud growing up. It's the confusion of being raised by women who wore the title "mother," but never truly mothered me. It's about the ache of being unseen in the very place that was supposed to see me most. The poem spills out what it feels like to watch love happen around you, but not to you.

It's about abandonment, identity, and the strange grief of having two mothers-and still feeling like an orphan. It's a reflection on how the word "mother" changed for me over time, and how silence, absence, and inconsistency can leave scars deeper than words.

This is me, saying what I wish I could've said back then.