Poetry by Sena Cobblah

I wish I could go back
To her year of firsts
When she wore puffs
when she first liked a boy

Or coated her lips with shea butter
The very first turban she tied

How happy she was with her friends
How the heat from firewood singed every single hair
on her legs
How the red hot wood left black burn marks

I yearn to see how her dad was potty in her hands
because she was the last baby
The fights she picked with boys
The baths she took outside in the gravel
the first time she lined her eyelids
with coal
The first meal she cooked

I want to know my mother before she was my mother
Innocent, fearless and free
Before society broke her
Before religion crippled her
Trying to make her the watered down version of the “African Woman”

Devoid of strength and a fighting spirit
Eager to make her what ‘they’ wanted her to be

I want to know my mother before she was my mother
Innocent, fearless and free.

Bio
Sena Cobblah is a novice writer discovering what she has to say. She practices her writing on her blog senahasanopinion.wordpress.com.
She also engages on social media with her art on Instagram. @sena_cobblah