Blood is thicker than water.
I'm nine years old and my mother had sighed us both up for a dieting course.
At eighteen I still see how interchangeable fatness and ugliness are to her.
I still have to stop myself from thinking of skipping meals after I ate "too much".
Clinging to the fear of the slippery slope that serves as my only guard.
I see it in my friends too,
comforted by their opposition for what my mother had embraced like gospal for the helpless fools.
Blood is thicker than water.
I like the hairs on my body.
The short and soft strands that cover my legs, blonde and black and all too
natural.
Removing them leaves my legs red and prick-prick- pickling for days but-
My sister laughs through a wrinkled nose,
My cousin tells stories, horrified, of women like me,
Mother says it's unhygienic and would not let me leave the house like this.
I haven't worn shorts in years.
But my friends' confident 'fuck you' to everyone who isn't them,
who dares control their bodies and shame them into pain or hiding,
makes me feel like one day I might wear them again.
Blood is thicker than water,
I find it hard to talk to people.
The thought of discussing anything more than trivial matters makes my lunges heavy in my chest.
Talking to my parents- a heavy led filling what seem less and less like lungs with every passing second.
Talking to my friends- the heaviness doesn't always go away, but the weight doesn't get harder to bear.
I heard my mother tell a friend how her kids talk to her about everything.
A bitter laugh never tasted so much as the sea.
Blood is thicker than water,
Since I can remember myself, I never wanted kids.
Took me years so unveil why.
The dismissal cut deep when Mother assumed she knew me better than I do, a cruel arrogance for what she must only consider her property.
'You'll change your mind and give me grandchildren'
A payment for my life-
"Interest" she calls it.
Blood is thicker than water,
When I came out to you, dear parents, you once again ignored me
as if I hadn't tortured myself enough,
as if it hadn't taken me years trying to accept myself before you turned your back on me with cruel dismissal.
As if I don't still struggle.
All I have left is to fall back on my friends' support again,
being caught in their loving embrace without ever asking to.
They say you can't choose your family but-
the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 2:29 PM UTC
Blood is thicker than water.
I'm nine years old and my mother had sighed us both up for a dieting course.
At eighteen I still see how interchangeable fatness and ugliness are to her.
I still have to stop myself from thinking of skipping meals after I ate "too much".
Clinging to the fear of the slippery slope that serves as my only guard.
I see it in my friends too,
comforted by their opposition for what my mother had embraced like gospal for the helpless fools.
Blood is thicker than water.
I like the hairs on my body.
The short and soft strands that cover my legs, blonde and black and all too
natural.
Removing them leaves my legs red and prick-prick- pickling for days but-
My sister laughs through a wrinkled nose,
My cousin tells stories, horrified, of women like me,
Mother says it's unhygienic and would not let me leave the house like this.
I haven't worn shorts in years.
But my friends' confident 'fuck you' to everyone who isn't them,
who dares control their bodies and shame them into pain or hiding,
makes me feel like one day I might wear them again.
Blood is thicker than water,
I find it hard to talk to people.
The thought of discussing anything more than trivial matters makes my lunges heavy in my chest.
Talking to my parents- a heavy led filling what seem less and less like lungs with every passing second.
Talking to my friends- the heaviness doesn't always go away, but the weight doesn't get harder to bear.
I heard my mother tell a friend how her kids talk to her about everything.
A bitter laugh never tasted so much as the sea.
Blood is thicker than water,
Since I can remember myself, I never wanted kids.
Took me years so unveil why.
The dismissal cut deep when Mother assumed she knew me better than I do, a cruel arrogance for what she must only consider her property.
'You'll change your mind and give me grandchildren'
A payment for my life-
"Interest" she calls it.
Blood is thicker than water,
When I came out to you, dear parents, you once again ignored me
as if I hadn't tortured myself enough,
as if it hadn't taken me years trying to accept myself before you turned your back on me with cruel dismissal.
As if I don't still struggle.
All I have left is to fall back on my friends' support again,
being caught in their loving embrace without ever asking to.
They say you can't choose your family but-
the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
Warning- references eating disorders.
This is slam poetry and thus sounds better when read out loud (or at least with a passionate inside voice 😂)
