• AZALA
  • Sormen gunea
    • Kontakizun laburra
    • Poesia
    • Literatura berriak
    • Argazkilaritza eta ilustrazioa
    • Elkarrizketa
  • Kritika gunea
    • Artikulua
    • Saiakera
    • Zutabea
    • Kronika
    • Editoriala
  • Lantaldea
    • Kolaboratzaileak
  • eu
  • es

La Espiral

No es solo una revista

Hereditary

11 April, 2025 by Ainhoa Rey Cuesta Leave a Comment

The seed of wrath roots in her stomach,
the seed of a sin that grows into a daughter.
It’s a sin that swells, splits the womb and sprouts,
all teeth, all sour, all ugly things to the core.

My bitterness is my mother’s heirloom,
a relic of her unspoken labor,
a silence carved from the marrow of rage,
rage shaped into a compliant shape,
rage taught to swallow like rotten fruit.

She gripped my hand as if it were a trophy,
not flesh, not bone, but her own dream.
Until she saw I was not gold, but steel,
cold and unyielding, a mirror too sharp,
a bird too free and a fox too sly.

Now, she hungers to devour me,
A failed chance, a flawed reflection,
A desperate clawing for what she lost to me.
“You could be anything,” she says,
while staring at herself in the kitchen mirror.

But contrary to my mother,
I never believed I could be anything.
I could only go so far as being me,
a self she cannot claim,
a seed she cannot uproot,
the bitter fruit she never knew.

The following two tabs change content below.
  • Bio
  • Latest Posts

Ainhoa Rey Cuesta

Latest posts by Ainhoa Rey Cuesta (see all)

  • Lady Liberty - 11 April, 2025
  • Hereditary - 11 April, 2025

Filed Under: Sin categorizar Tagged With: deustopoesia25

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Universidad de Deusto

La Espiral y la Universidad de Deusto no se hacen responsables de las opiniones vertidas por las personas colaboradoras | © 2025 | Privacidad | Log in