To be daughter is to be Creature
stitched together by unstable hands
Abandoned at the first sign of life
in your eyes and left among people
who speak a language you don’t know
and cannot learn
It is to be genderless and perform
femininity that fits like a winter coat
two sizes too small
over a bulky wool sweater
Fabric on itchy fabric that makes you sweat
desperate to get it off, off use your Teeth
if you have to
To be Daughter is to be self-fulfilled prophecy
handed down through stern words and
taken in
to the back of the throat
so the words cannot get out
and you cannot ask for help
from the people you love
It is to be non-human and heavy with knowledge
blind to yourself but cursed with Sight
of everyone else
The future dawns on you and drowns
in the white-hot morning
To be daughter is to be separate
different, somehow, in some way
you cannot give name to
Contradictions make you interesting
but you are tired of being contradictory
and want congruence like you want
the Dusk: cool, soft, inviting
To be daughter is to be left, wanting for
comfort and touch and attention and desire and quiet and Place and proof
that you are real
that you are enough
Giving it all to others and telling yourself
it satisfies
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