My soul is water
My soul is water on which my sanity floats
In a small ship with my other selves
And all of my most feared ghosts
These ghosts on my boat are me too
Old selves murdered by denial
By persecution and by trial
They were spokespeople for my
Happiness
...silenced.
Possibly not for forever
They may speak again
My selves and I will listen together
And it won't matter whether
I am not damaged or still the same.
The damage will itself die
And I will be an African woman
Or I will at least try
to be responsible for my happiness.
I will wash myself with my own love
And be so excited for my nappiness
To be the change I speak of.
To change.
I can't wait to figure out
What's wrong with me
So I can sing with John
And say this is the way I used to be.
I will no longer honor this pain
But write it finished and done
Turn myself into an African queen
and a magical example for my son.
And I will make a life and love
A spirit of congruence and forgiveness
For my daughter
With this, I will take to my vessel
And touch myself in my water.
1 comment:
..............initial reaction............because i think this might, to date, be my favorite. "and i will make a life and love, a spirit of congruence and forgiveness for my daughter, with this, i will take my vessel, and touch myself in my water." i'm always afraid to rhyme. i think it sounds stupid when i do it. but u do it perfectly.
it's not rare for one to compare themselves to another and wonder why they can't be outdone. but you, my love, are nothing shy of genius so your pieces are without creases and are always....well done.
you making me wanna write something. but i'm not. ima chill.
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