john 1:1

i am
finding it difficult to
catch my breath this
grief has taken hold of me
reached into the crevices of
who i am or at least who
i thought i would be
living, here, in this world where
her voice remains knowing those
were the last words she would
fold into themselves dishing
them out to us just as
twisted and delicious as
big mama’s famous checkerboard
cake where chocolate
met vanilla and became
something
more
 
i honestly thought i
knew what love is, i
thought i understood it
having sat across from it
in rooms full of strangers
having drank deeply from
it’s chalice while friends held
back my hair but really what  do i
love more than words
what really am i if not
a
word
 
words
take me
mold me
trap me in this too
small life with this too
big child making every
ordinary day an
adventure
words
make me
from the tips of my
painted toes to the
edges of my too big too
thin curly cue hair words 
each moment that passes from
that first moment i realized
there
would
be
no
more
words
 
not from she
who gave me the
words that crafted
this story no matter how
small i remember those
were the last her gift to
me…to us and i just want to
fly away but
those words
ground me
holding me like
promises i never
meant to keep
 
these words
she taught me
breed on sacrifice
dance shamelessly
setting fire to this life
these words
don’t ‘pay nobody’s bills’ 
just keep on
coming i honestly
don’t know what
 
i will do now
knowing that those
words were the last
words she will ever
give me
perhaps
its time
finally
for me to make
words of my own
 
god help this child

2 Comments Add yours

  1. heyannis says:

    Full of emotion and images that testify to your beyond-readiness to make your own words. Thank you. xoA

  2. heyannis says:

    Reblogged this on heyannis and commented:
    Poet Wanda Olugbala’s second tribute to Toni Morrison.

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