firincirya

grandmother i hear you calling my name but these feet, bound by shoes, have forgotten moist earth have forgotten the path to your embrace grandmother i hear you calling my name but between us lies such a tangled thicket of thorns and i'm not ready to be born into this i'm not ready to grow but this skin keeps shedding off leaving me raw and exposed under fluorescent lights wishing to once again be small enough to fold into your lap grandmother i hear you calling my name your voice is the sound of whales crying your voice is the sound of horses dancing your voice is a drum in my heart grandmother i hear you calling my name may i shed these shoes may i shed this skin may i cry as the whale may i dance as the horse may i follow this heartbeat home