Poetry: “the storyteller goes in search for her tongue” by lina begonia

the storyteller goes in search for her tongue

it came, without warning, the halt of my words. words that would force themselves through the gaps of my teeth. words that did not contain themselves to a cage, fully realized with meaning and purpose. i tucked myself in my corner of san francisco, fearful of strangers and the unknown. doomed to ride the bus with a poor credit score. stability will lead to fulfillment, mother says, it’s the goal of life. i’ve already paid the price.

i disconnect from the woman who writes these poems. i miss her glitter and first drafts, the voice that may grow softer, but is never silenced. when she leaves me, i die, because she is the one who guides me to the bookstore. the wide eyed child gawking at little trinkets and shelves of stories. in pursuit of a naive wish to become a magpie. 

she is here now, writing this poem. i hear reminding me to eat lunch and dinner. to stop skipping breakfast just because you enjoy the way your stomach feels when there’s nothing there. you deserve all three meals. you deserve rest. it’s over now. you will survive. 

you’ve always been clever.

About lina begonia

lina begonia is a poet-educator based in san francisco. her work is published by local, queer bipoc presses, including the ana and game over books. she feeds stray cats and likes to lift heavy things in the castro. find her across all platforms @linabegonia.