Rumi Petersen
Rapunzel Defends Her Madness
Mother you are tearing
the hair from my scalp, mother you
are not hearing me call for another hand
to nestle in mine.
Mother I am running
out of secrets to uncover in the stones
and mortar of the only home
you’ve given me, mother
I want to cut
this golden prison from my skull.
Lover I confess I am not
so naive as to think
you are mine or that you will not leave
and lover do you think “untouched” is the same
as “undamaged” and is being sane
antithetical to being broken?
I thought, lover, that it was my
mother who misunderstood my melancholy, but
my lover I asked if you heard
the mortar moan
and you accused
me of madness. Lover, your hand
tangled in my hair feels
like my mother’s.
the hair from my scalp, mother you
are not hearing me call for another hand
to nestle in mine.
Mother I am running
out of secrets to uncover in the stones
and mortar of the only home
you’ve given me, mother
I want to cut
this golden prison from my skull.
Lover I confess I am not
so naive as to think
you are mine or that you will not leave
and lover do you think “untouched” is the same
as “undamaged” and is being sane
antithetical to being broken?
I thought, lover, that it was my
mother who misunderstood my melancholy, but
my lover I asked if you heard
the mortar moan
and you accused
me of madness. Lover, your hand
tangled in my hair feels
like my mother’s.
Rumi Sidhu Petersen is an LA-based poet and screenwriter with a love of art in all its forms. You can find Rumi on Instagram @rumipetersen.
