I give you tears that sprout Poem by Monica Aasprong

I give you tears that sprout

you shall use them

when someone forces themselves inside

then you shall let that crying sprout

let the crying dance on the very edge

like the bullets in a fountain


then I give you tears that sob

they come over you

when you least expect them

(and are difficult to stop)



I give you a brother to hate

(and you get the violence as a part of siblinghood)



there's no room for you in the picture, I say

you must walk yourself, on your legs



I drag around the blood of all feet

that is why,

says the child


no, I say

that can't be right

it must be something else

a smaller

burden



perhaps a shattered hate

you can try to heal that



I see the child walk

with a bunch

on its back


the book lies open


you have stolen my bonds,

I scream at the child

they are my bonds you have there

not yours