Wounds borne by my soul     before I was born Wounds stabbed into my heart     before its first beat Wounds stinking rotten     filled with maggots Wounds covered and plastered     with fake smiles and family honors Wounds of women     known and unknown Wounds of others     as my own Wounds of my own … Continue reading

The Collaborators

the wind muffles the shrieks the river sweeps the bloodstains the earth hides the unclaimed bones and they scheme and they scheme with – darkness on bright days – deception through loving hugs – and weakness of family bonds to uphold tradition and safeguard honor.