All posts for the month September, 2013

First day of school

Published September 10, 2013 by hrhdana

I sit

in your midst



I am not bothered by the deluge of curses you spew.

I’m watching, listening, open to you.

First day of school.

No talk of




or studying,


“I fucked that bitch in homie’s bathroom.

Everyone was there. I ain’t care.

She a hoe now.

Everyone knows.”

I turn away


I try to guess your age.

15 maybe…

A group of girls this time…

I listen,

“I know I’ma fuck that bitch up!

Ain’t nothing change but the school year.

Suspend me!

I don’t fucking care!!”

First day of school

You are both

already failing.

I sit

in your midst



and I wish.

I wish that my love was strong enough to

reach you,

break though,

gift you several clues.

I love you…

little boy lost

little girl angry.

I love you

in all of your possibility.

Your decisions to wallow in shit

wound me.

I know that children learn what they live

that knowledge makes me hurt even more for you.

Little boy…

testosterone  infused


misguided by what you hear in music and on the news.

You equate manhood with

bedroom exploits

and violence.

I wish I could introduce you to real men.

I wish you could sit

in their midst

feast on knowledge

and their gentleness.

It would illustrate for you

how one dimensional

how shallow

how flat and full of lack

your definition of manhood is.

Little girl …


lashing out


misguided by multiple outlets undervaluing your worth.

You matter.

I wish I could teach you how much power you hold.

I wish I could show you so that you would know

how much more strength it takes

to walk away

the value in knowing you will live another day.

You matter.

I wish someone taught you that.

I wish you could hear me

believe me

feel me

because it’s true.




I love you.


Published September 3, 2013 by hrhdana

It’s Tuesday.
I just dropped the munchkin off at my Mom’s.
I’m waiting for the bus.
She’s changed me so much.

As I wait a sanitation truck passes and I want to scream, “Garbage truck! Thank you for getting the garbage!!” Because that’s what we do.

A train comes in to the station and I want to yell, “THAT’S A NOISY TRAIN!” Because that’s what we do.

I watch other Moms with their littles and my arms ache to hold mine. Even though I spent most of yesterday and all of last night begging mine to, “please stop touching me for FIVE minutes…please!”

I don’t see or experience anything without thinking of her. It’s amazing and wonderful and…terrifying.

Happy Tuesday folks.

And see now I want to say, “Tuesday see the teacher at the library day. Yaaay!” Because that’s what we do.