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I come from the same aching bones
I come from the same aching blood,
The one that scolds out of love
I come from the very rosebud
the one I can’t dispose of
The rage is my father’s,
I drink it like champagne
The sadness is my mother’s
Addicting as cocaine
I replay their memories of hurt
The pain embedded into their veins.
Never speaking of it, like it’s dirt
But I know it remains
I come from the same aching blood
That carries the anger that burns
I come from the very rosebud
That never changes, at best turns.
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My name is Atziri. I love to write poetry as well as political pieces.