At 28 years I have become more self-interested
than I have been for two decades.
I am exploring all the granite holds my mind can grip,
all the ways my heart can cleave,
what fits into my body, the feeling of entry and exit,
how invasion stings and where I build my walls,
what quiets my horses and what scatters them galloping.
I used to look outside all the time like a periscope,
but now my navel fascinates me.
For so long it didn’t really matter who I was.
I simply was. I did. I perceived. I acted. I reacted.
The world needed my discovery. I yearned to stomp
all over its trails recording my findings.
Now I am ecologist frantically cataloguing the behaviors,
daily rituals, feeding and mating practices
of the only one of my species. Now it feels paramount
to carve out the hollow where I shall nest,
to place a sign for others, and a pair of binoculars
and a guidebook: “The Wild Me.”

Sometimes, I blame the stars
I ponder the possibility of their alignment being so twisted on the day I was born
Searching for an explanation

Sometimes, I blame my parents
Perhaps the concept of never being good enough, of which they poisoned my brain with, was not just a concept but in fact the truth all along

Sometimes, I blame my teachers
I consider the reinforcement of said concept being pushed down my throat during my years in education
Never good enough to succeed
Never good enough to be loved

Sometimes, I blame God
No, I’m not religious, but the desperation to know the unknown consumes my entire being until I am pushed towards yet another unknown

Sometimes, I blame society
For worshipping such unattainable standards of beauty that one forgets the true meaning of the word
What does it mean to be beautiful?
What does it mean to be loved?

I never blame myself.
Because I know that is where the answer lies and it terrifies me.

When do I get some Peace?
when can I get some Love?
when do I get to Sleep?


Since infancy,
I just always looked at life differently,
Everything’s epiphanies,
wouldn't accept what they’d give to me,
I would always question,  
had to know the history,
If I couldnt get that,
it became a mystery,
Had to connect the dots,
Had to make it make sense to me,
Unanswered questions,
are like open files on desks to me,
the more I let pile up the less I get done efficiently,
Heavy in my thoughts I don’t need no competition please,
Everything I’ve ever wanted, I thought of, and it's come to be,
I’m going retire at 42 like it was meant for me,
I been saying that since 23 with the only difference being,
I believe it NOW MORE than ever in history.

I am both a sadist and a *******
When it comes to myself

The brown-eyed boy, a beauty
A distraction
It develops and flourishes
I knock it down

The girl who sings, a star
A nuisance
The roots intertwine
I set the fire

At last
The red-haired girl, my past
My love
The seed begins to bloom
I salt the earth

I was painted to be-
A majestic lioness
With a hungry heart
And beauty resembling art.

I was drawn to be-
A muscular manifestation
Of swift and stable poise
A roaring constant noise.

But I am no prototype for prejudice
This lion, is loyal to herself
And belongs to the savanna,
The rich mud in the Ghana.

I do not care for gold
Or for my pompous title
I shall not use my claws
For such a petty cause.

Appetiser
-
A fresh, hot glance in the mirror

To start
-
A lingering feeling of fat-shame served on a bed of between-wash hair with a  dash of blemishes

Main
-
An overture of ovulating positivity, a feeling of unfiltered joy and self-love.
Braisen confidence with likeability

Amuse bouche
-
Insufferable indecision

Dessert
-
A sharp (too sharp) sting of sarcasm washed down with a sweet apology chaser.