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I Knocked my Head Against the Wall
As a child
I put my finger in the fire
to become
a saint.
As a teenager
every day I would knock my head against the wall.
As a young girl
I went out through a window of a garret
to the roof
in order to jump.
As a woman
I had lice all over my body.
They cracked when I was ironing my sweater.
I waited sixty minutes
to be executed.
I was hungry for six years.
Then I bore a child,
they were carving me
without putting me to sleep.
Then a thunderbolt killed me
three times and I had to rise from the dead three times
without anyone’s help.
Now I am resting
after three resurrections.
poem
by
Anna Swirszczynska
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