You trespassed the limits of my trust.
You were the father, I, the daughter.
For each, we were one and the other.
You were the one who broke the universe
existent between me & my mother.
With fear and shame
and anger
I told her you were really the other.
You told her I was a liar
and forced her to believe you
by threatening with departing.
After that I even thought,
maybe I just imagined
You telling me, "Let me touch
you there." There, where
it hurt. The blossoming
of my being mujer-
After that I never quite
trusted
my memories.
And I buried my feelings
deep in silence.
Beating myself.
Marrying someone who
would do the ego-beating/
soul-pecking for me.
Reinforce the hate I felt
towards my own self.
My molested self, my
invaded self, my denied
self.
I wasn't one or the other.
I had been left out
by my father & my mother.
I must have been evil.
I must have been ugly.
I must have been full
of errores
-¡horrores!
I wake up today
with a child within my belly.
And try to find the forgiveness,
the love I'm supposed to feel.
After all, you are my father.
Now, I am one.
Not any more, you, the other.
At some time you must have found
a place to hide your hunger.
A space to fly away
from your thunder
of memories you denied
but welled up from yonder.
No tears are left shining.
No pity, no ponder.
There once was a man,
there once was his daughter.
Sadness is left to wander.
He lost and might not even know it.
She told. And told. And told.
And continues to tell.
The cleaning
/healing clatter of words.
Pain fading away
like an echo.
