“Blackberries” by Tina Carey
In the delivery room. I
land on the smell of my mother
embraced by strangers
she only woke from her dead emotions
for me in june
when we searched for ripe blackberries. she
glowed at the site of the blackish fruit. she
awed at the perfectly shaped bush. she
kneeled as nature’s breath helped drop her blessing.
tenderly plucks and cradles each one in her dainty hand and
places the overflow in the tiny folds of mine.
don’t hold them too tight
the juice— stains
if only I had never washed my hands. at least
we’d have that.
Tina Carey’s Artist Statement: I’m a warrior, a poet, and a Mental Health advocate. My purpose is to be the light in the darkness. I want to be the example that you can rebuild plank by plank with courage and grace.
What does my writing/art mean to me? I scribbled my first verse when I was nine years old after experiencing sexual trauma. Writing poetry became a way to express me. It allowed me to spill the hurt onto the page when I felt like I had no voice. I still do this, but now as a way of healing, I write LOUD. I will never lose my voice again.