Small Deaths
BIO
Tatiana Gomez grew up in Medellin, Colombia, and moved to the United States when she was 9 years old. She holds a B.A. in English Literature and an M.A. in Especial Education. She is currently working on her Ed.D with a research focus on best practices for students with interrupted or limited formal education. She lives with her partner and three ferrets. In her free time, she helps to run a non-profit to raise funds to aid undocumented families with legal, medical and other fees.
Check out the http://www.theneighborfund.org/
My mother hears danger in every sound,
Sees death in unknown corners.
The day she smacked food out of my mouth,
Because I wasn’t chewing fast enough
I wanted to tell her I loved her; a little less.
The three nights she stood up,
Rubbing my injured back,
The hours she worked to pay for a car
So, I wouldn’t have to take the bus,
Did not make me love her more.
I imagine we fall out of love,
Through a series of small deaths.
Each moment becoming meaningful
Only in relation to another,
And the others that will follow them.