Forgive me ancestors

For the things I do that trespass you,

See: I am just a girl

Not the magic you have given my mother

Blessing me with her power since I was too young

To realize the strength of womanhood

And braving bodies to bare babies

Nor the wit you have given my father

Who never passed down to me the strength

To slit minds with razor sharpness

But rather the strength to slit wrists

With razor sharpness

See, you forget,

I am what you would call "Troubled Child"

Skin kissed not by the sun

But by intruders

I did not have the strength to say no to

And how is that?

When I am strong enough to carry this burden

Of what they've done to me,

And not strong enough to say a simple word?

That now rolls off my tongue

Like the love I hope you have for me

Love enough to grant the gift of life,

Ancestors,

Is it such a gift to live with this shame?

I suppose that is why I crack this family heirloom of a mirror

So that the shattered glass reflects back

My un-whole self image

And I can scratch, with the shards, my

Nostalgically untouched skin

All I want, but it will never reflect back

The bones of you

We are foundationally different

Though I practice your craft:

Burning incense, burning sage, burning bridges

It's hard to stop burning myself

When I'm surrounded by all this fire within me

As heat rises it blows up

And out of my mouth

Leaving ashes of consequence

Every mark I make burns and crumples to

The ground

Like the witches before me

Who simply practiced what they were

And were killed...

Sound familiar?

Repressing sexuality does not become of you

Repressing you to merely a statistic

Dear ancestors,

I've learned that history repeats itself

And I am stuck in a rut of rehearsal

Dedicatedly yours, 

Angel