What my Mama never said:

I always saw my Mama pack her heart and put in a suitcase
every time Papa left
She had her back turned
So I never saw how rugged and bloody it had been
To protect me I guess

But I wish my Mama had told me
That loving a man can be the most liberating feeling
That it can be a process of receiving healing
That it can be a process of sharing
That you can get addicted to the warmth of his body

What my Mama never said:
Was that loving a man can be a form of suicide
You die to yourself and become an ugly stranger
That loving a man can mean actively hating yourself
That at some point: you have to pack your heart in a suitcase
To escape the pain. So that you can live.
My Mama never told me women have to leave a space for deception
That my grandmother's grandmother had been made fools
And that I will be no different and 'knowing book' won't save me

Fuck! I'm here now with my suitcase