Womb

Some feel the pain of their ancestors

I do, too. Well, kind of.

I feel the pain, that's true

but not so long back.

I feel the pain of my grandmother, 

who was given away to the village on the mountain across, 

to serve a man, 

to give birth to men,

to be ruled by the mother of the man,

to be worked so relentlessly, 

that her back broke, 

and her soul,

her eyes fixed on the mountain across

longing for what was once home. 

still they buried her on the wrong mountain

and said she's at least now home. 

I feel the pain of my grandmother

who never learned to read

anything else than the Kuran

that kept her half sane

never learned how to write

anything other than her name

and that from her grandchildren aged ten

who didn't understand there was a limit

and taught her the whole summer everything they can.

I feel the pain of my grandmother

who worked in the fields of corn, potatoes, and cabbage

and kept her home

who cooked, cleaned, and cared for

all the six men for so long.

she cooked for us when we were little

always as if she was cooking for the whole village

and we would devour the cornmeal like animals

all eating from the one giant pot she had

with spoons in our little hands

full of grandma's special food dipped in yogurt

trying to eat and share without going all savage.

I feel the pain of my grandmother,

who admitted countless times

that she never wanted to have 

any of her children

including my mom,

who tried so many times 

and lost her children,

until she had us. 

I still to this day can't help but wonder,

has she ever really wanted to be a mother?

I feel the pain of my grandmother,

who was probably constantly raped

and forced to have the children

that she never wished to have

under the name of marriage

meant nothing really more 

than belonging to a man.

I feel the pain of my mother,

who grew up being told

that she was never wanted

who was told to obey

who was forced to behave

but she leaped forward

tightened her grip on the opportunity

of a future that was brighter

than the life of her mother

so she buried all the pain away

and kept on towards the light

didn't know that it would live in me

along with all the pain I carry today. 

I feel the strength of my mother

I feel the strength of my grandmothers

I feel their love in my blood

and their care

I carry all this pain I was given

on these shoulders stronger than ever

going some thousand steps further

to the places that my mothers

could've never imagined going.

I'm taking our pain to places,

I'm taking all of you to places

that you couldn't witness in your lifetime.

But I carry you with me everywhere I go

and all our pain

to places where we are safe

to places where we are free 

to be

all together and away

from all the suffering we faced

from all the suffering that broke your backs

but I'm still standing, Mom,

I'm standing strong, Grandma,

making all of you proud

showing you all the ways of living

you didn't dare to dream

carrying all of you and our pain

letting all of us live through me

making sure your lives weren't lived in vain.