my mother tells me of how
her homeland was once
taken over by those who
felt as though they
were entitled to it
simply because she
wasn’t pretty enough
to call it her own
i can’t tell if its my
memory or hers
when i see the
stare of a soldier
holding his gun as
if its bullets
belonged in my body
as much as i
was supposed to belong
on this soil
she tells me we are
blessed to have two homes
on both ends of the world
and i tell her it is a curse
to not belong to
either of them
my mother tells me of how
disappointed she was in me
when i had my land
get taken over by
a man who felt as though
he was entitled to it
simply because i was too
pretty to not share it
he left his marks on me
the way the bombs
left their marks on
my mother’s hometown
when she was learning
how to be a little girl
in the comfort of her
own bomb shelter
she tells me of how
she was taught to
avoid the men marching
around with big guns
and uniforms because
they always seem to
have a hand on
the trigger
i tell her it is
hard to avoid them
when nowadays
everyone seems to
conceal their weapons
my mother tells me
the biggest regret
she ever had
was to let her country
get taken over by
those who can’t even
seem to recognize
its beauty
she doesn’t seem
to realize it
hurts the same
even as they
whisper “you’re
so beautiful”
when they are
conquering
your body
Hinnah Mian is an award winning Pakistani-American poet and author of To Build A Home.
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