An ode to the suffering of women in my Chinese lineage, including two great-grandmothers with bound feet. A line of mothers that had overcome all odds of tradition, culture, abandonment and abuse. Too strong to break, but inevitably broken-hearted. My heart goes in to you all, take my hand.

Dark
Maroon
Smoke
the essence
from generations
of fury
repression
and
servitude

when i was made
to cower
next to my mother
my grandmother
my great-grandmother
in the corner
where there’s no way out
pressed against the cold concrete
broken feet
tucked in
making ourselves fit
into their ideas
of what a woman
should be

the smell of fear
and quiet indignation
cling like beads
of perspiration

we did their bidding
wore their shoes
designed to cripple
our will
and still
we persevered
through waves of turmoil
changing country
culture
language
clothes
we raised children
sharing
what’s left of us
what’s kept hidden
from view
a shadow
a memory
of dignity and grace
a flash of joy
amidst valiant
empty
sacrifices

mothers, how did you do it?
leaving behind everything
when nothing was yours to begin with
stepping into
the broken shoes
your mothers left behind
filling a new gap
in someone else’ life

Dark
Maroon
Smoke
rising softly
reminding me
of the damp earth
where you cried and cried.