Bruises Felt Like Hope

by Tiny, Daughter of Dee, Mama of Tiburcio

Once upon a time there was a daughter of a mama with a broken heart
who was a daughter of a mama with a broken heart
who was a daughter of a daughter with only a piece of a heart


these mamas and daughters held their broken hearts in their hands,
cut in so many places they almost couldn’t be held-
slipping thru their broken fingers like sand or water or blood-

they taught each other cracked dreams of how not to be broken-
they walked thru life and mama-hood with nothing but blood drips and unclear desires for something that didn’t hurt.

they fell into men and each other like it would end the break.endings
and the break-ups
ripping new tears into their chest.
their black and blue eyes would look out from black and blue lives.

Bruises felt like hope.
Slaps and cracked bones soothed the ache of alone.
violence was an ointment to rub on the bleeding scabs of loss.

they re-wrote horror stores as love stories- writing want into every  torn page.

one of the daughters thrown out of the love-car and left to die on the side of the love -road
burning from the ache


holding onto a chard of maybes with one broken fingernail
erased with the terror of alone/
precipice lingering


woke up one day
realizing something that she wanted to be love so bad that she had made it love-
realizing that everything that loved her was already around her and it didn’t taste like blood or pain or loss
realizing that maybe
she wasn’t
quite as
broken