Reaching for my art book I opened the section for poetry, tracing the pen work and cursive words. needing to remember what they meant to me.
Im scared...
Scared that ill continue to
Have a relationship with my
Past self-called ex
Scared that she'll be
Heavy on my present
That I won't be able
To rest.
Im scared
Scared that the burdens
Of rumors and unbelief
Will unveil me when I try to love
Im scared that I will not
Be able to scream
And cry and be called weak.
In fact, I'm wrong
What I meant
Was I'm afraid that I'll scream
And cry and still be referred to as weak
For being tired of being strong.
As if being a woman
Isn't enough strength in the word itself
My body is scarred
But scattered are the bruises
Of the lies and torment
Of rejection...
