grace

my original son, circa 2004

My original son was born
Original sin stained and
Wailing
At a hospital called Grace
And middle-named
Determination
Finger and heel
Pricked with needles
Smacked along the back
And told to cry

For the next ten years
He’d be told
Over and over
To stifle the tears
Harness the rage
Take control of emotions
Until
With grace
I relearned my own
Emotion
Was offered names for
Feelings
Was rebirthed into
A way of becoming
Loud
And proud
A weeping grace

Ten years of
Telling my brother
His love was unequal
To the contemptuous
Possessive
Codependent love
I clung to
While he sought safety
In the arms of boys who promised
A grace in the midnight
Weeping for family
Hoping for change