the mommy issues were genetic
my ma stuck that knife in me
straight down to the hilt.
she treated the knife like a nail,
and treated her fist like a hammer.
i pulled it out, bit by bit,
and i read the carving on the wooden handle.
it spelled out the name of her family’s matriarch.
then i tucked it away in my sock drawer
with blood flaking off and away.
because there’s no point in being bitter
at a blade.
especially not one
with a last name,
and not one made with love.
gotta say as much as generational trauma wrecks ur family it is so funny to watch in action during the holidays
