Being

a woman is so hard

Being black ain’t too far  

I didn’t ask to be here 

Then I learned I’m really not supposed to be here  

Just being is hard. 

more sensitive than I’d like to admit.

I’m so ready to just unravel.  

Let this plane swallow me whole.  

Either way this destination is certain. 

I guess

I thought after a quarter of a century things would start to make sense. But I still don’t know who I am. Maybe I’ll give it another twenty five years.