I torture myself
with the memories of
those who left me behind.
Like flash cards
for words like
I can’t remember to forget.
I am woman/brown/black/white/strong/fierce/rash in my loving/relentless in my giving/I am the unequivical irritation in the ‘post-racial’ worl
That moment when you have a crush on the new lady cashier at your local CVS
I often wonder who it was I got this confidence from.
who taught me how to shift the muscles
in each leg with such faulty placement
that I never believed in the steps I had taken to begin with.
could it be from the woman who taught me
that a forced smile is better than none at all
Drowning in the testosterone