In The Before - By Michelle Rama

in the before

I clung to hope, my mother’s skirt.

I refused to be joyful on my own,

I refused to be joyful when I was alone.

a peddler selling sour candy,

I doled out pieces of my heart

though I knew they tasted tart.

pattering like tears against

the glass lining the windowpane,

I kept myself small, small, and tame.

I left behind a life not meant for me,

I learned worlds, learned how to believe.

rough sky-waves crashing up my arms,

I turn away the hate, no more inkblot scars.

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Cover page by Brianna Paulino