To my daughter with a mother wound

Let my mother’s wound speak to your mother’s wound.

I do not need an open mic for this.

But this will be a mic drop.

Let this echo over and over again.

I’ve been your age, you have not been mine.

In fact, you are 3 decades behind.

I am wiser and seasoned with emotions you have yet to be cooked with.

When you catch up to me then your words might burn.

But until then, respect is what I deserve.

You know you are just like me.

You like my words, I know you do.

I do not have to rhyme to be cool.

Stealing my lines and everything.

Writing is my therapy.

Passed down to you.

Been writing before I could give life to you.

You are acting brand new.

Yes, there is something in the water.

It is not a sickness.

It is a pandemic

Broken men are an illness.

Looking for a woman to save them from drowning.

The water is tainted.

You ain’t the first and won’t be the last.

A girl fighting to be a woman.

A woman fighting her inner child.

The inner child fighting her mother’s wound.

A mother fighting the cycle.

A mother fighting to change the narrative.

Get in line.

You have a long way to go!

One more before I go…

Do better than what you had!

Maybe you can stop the cycle!

Ready,  set,  go…