Mother I Am Waiting Now To Tell You Poem by Jill Jones

Mother about the letters i never wrote
the sirens outside batter my heart
and the fact i don't eat enough food
reminding me i am hungry
all that heavy seductive stuff
in the nights of new traffic in dreams
and i do not understand your eyes
where there is so much blindness
the glare of your tenacity almost breathing
i am struck down at the window
i have prayed to be that strong — resisting also
the death squads are squealing in the backyards
but there is too much noise — two languages now
spray painting their names like manifestoes
like what you wanted me to be — like this
i don't like the sound my fear makes
and like someone else who has my voice
i talk to myself — begging that someone
who has my arms but speaks a different love
will remember the answer to the enigma
which you have lost the words for
i am waiting for them to tell me
i am waiting now to tell you