my hands start to tell the world
the story of the women behind me
the unheard
the unbalanced
the unconditional loving woman
the mother
the ones that took the hardship in their
tears,
in their guts or on their skin
the ones that carried all the bad in their bones.
not letting it touch their children.
not letting it out
still nothing you hide inside
stays hidden forever
it comes back from within
generations after.
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