Ancestors

I am a story told with drama and pause by my mother’s mother.

I am a cloth sewn into a fragmented human with frays and rips, by my father’s mother.
I am a congealed mass of person created by the women related to me and by those with whom I share no blood.
Their ghost lips tell stories that I become.
And while they scream a story that would be different then that of so many women around me, they don’t get to decide.
And while my destiny is so grand, my reality is forced by those who do not have my best interest at heart.

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