Milk and Honey

for
the arms
that hold me

my heart woke me crying last night
how can i help
i begged
my heart said
write the book

contents

the hurting

the loving

the breaking

the healing

a letter

about the writer

about the book

how is it so easy for you
to be kind to people
he asked
milk and honey dripped
from my lips as i answered
cause people have not
been kind to me

the first boy that kissed me
held my shoulders down
like the handlebars of
the first bicycle
he ever rode
i was five
he had the smell of
starvation on his lips
which he picked up from
his father feasting on his mother at 4 a.m.
he was the first boy
to teach me my body was
for giving to those that wanted
that i should feel anything
less than whole
and my god
did i feel as empty
as his mother at 4:25 a.m.

it is your blood
in my veins
tell me how i’m
supposed to forget

the therapist places
the doll in front of you
it is the size of girls
your uncles like touching
point to where his hands were
you point to the spot
between its legs the one
he fingered out of you
like a confession
how’re you feeling
you pull the lump
in your throat out
with your teeth
and say
fine
numb really

- midweek sessions

he was supposed to be
the first male love of your life
you still search for him
everywhere

- father

you were so afraid
of my voice
i decided to be
afraid of it too

she was a rose
in the hands of those
who had no intention
of keeping her

every time you
tell your daughter
you yell at her
out of love
you teach her to confuse
anger with kindness
which seems like a good idea
till she grows up to
trust men who hurt her
cause they look so much
like you

- to fathers with daughters

i’ve had sex
she said
but i don’t know
what making love
feels like

if i knew what
safety looked like
i would have spent
less time falling into
arms that were not

sex takes the consent of two
if one person is lying there not doing anything
cause they are not ready
or not in the mood
or simply don’t want to
yet the other is having sex
with their body it’s not love
it is rape

the idea that we are
so capable of love
but still choose
to be toxic

there is no bigger illusion in the world
than the idea that a woman will
bring dishonor into a home
if she tries to keep her heart
and her body safe

you pinned
my legs to
the ground
with your feet
and demanded
i stand up

the rape will
tear you
in half
but it
will not
end you

you have sadness
living in places
sadness shouldn’t live