Is made my mother cry/

And make her think I didn’t wanna call  when I was just worried about worrying her with my bad choices/ or sometimes lack of choices at all.

the saddest thing I’ve ever done was hearing her words but shucking her advice down a football field as I laid under the stars with my bad decisions.

The saddest thing I’ve ever done was hating myself while she called me her hero.

Was forgetting that I come from pistol in their holster women/ from raising children against all odds women/ for hustling because my kids will never be hungry women.

How could I forget that I come from a grandmother who barricaded herself in her home with a poker face/her 8 year old children/ and a shotgun. A grandmother who could have stopped any government from taking her land/ twice/ while pregnant.

How did I forget that I share my mothers thick dark hair and her worry lines/ worry lines because there’s a lot to worry about/ one for every prayer she sent up for me because she knew I’d make it but she hopped I’d make it unscathed.

How did I forget I am the daughter and the reflection of beauty and let any woman make me believe my face was ordinary.

The saddest thing I’ve ever done was forget that I had a cheerleader when I was failing and a home when I was homeless/ was forgetting my mother’s talent for surviving was so abundant that it overflowed and fell onto me.

The saddest thing I ever did

Was write this poem in English

knowing she won’t understand.