The night of the last day of February
where it was a rare occasion that the month felt complete
I lay in my mother's garden
looked up at the stars and I felt so small and my impermance was forced down my spine
I called to say im tired of writing sad poems
poems about people
they appear and reappear- so they can be written about
The written are seldom forgotten, you see
              its a cold world baby girl,
but let that Coldplay lighten the load
                      
                         Look at the stars ,
                     Look how they shine for you,
                 And everything that you do,
              Yeah, they were all yellow,

Stared at the stars long enough and it all came to me,
All the times ive emptied my cup for those who've never traced their shea butter laced fingers through my scalp and intricate braids,
All the times I...

So I Untied my anklets and made new ones
With colourful beads I individually hand picked from the local market
and im a step closer to only being mine
returning all of me to me
And I am *enough