by Jenna Baig
Were you a glass bottle
thrown at a brick wall
in a little town called Calabria?
Were you stepped on
by the black combat bootsof a tall man,
or tortured by the distorted hue
that was woven into every weed
of your mother’s garden?
Your back is broken, and still
you carry your family’s weight,
your body curling inward
like a fetus.
Did you meet a man who trapped you,
kid after kid,
until all you could hear
were the cries of your children
screaming your name?
I remember your hands outstretched,
like a martyr
surrendering to your pain.
Were you touched too closelyby your zio or marito?
Why, when we visit their graves,
do you still bring them flowers?
Are you haunted by the voices
of your childhood,
by the footsteps
creeping into your bedroom
that only you could hear?
why did no one save you?
Author Bio: Jenna Baig is a high school student who loves creative writing. Sylvia Plath is one of her inspirations.