A still frame hangs in my mind.
A moment...
           A precious timepiece...
                     That parted uncontested.

When my pen laid still.
My hands followed my feet.
I surrendered my name.
           and rambled towards destiny

Years flew by,
My mind relaxed.
My thoughts were tired;
So I set them free.
And In my steadfast
My fleshy skin was replaced by Iron and Lead.

New found strength
prospected future glory
wayward
I rambled
carrying the ashes
of my artistic self.

In these times
I had no face.
Yet passion and sweat
gave me a name.
As I yelled it out
my passion began ablaze

Thus rose the phoenix
My mind to breath once  more
                   to reflect
                      to broaden
                         to keep

From this I now know
that behind the mask of ordinary
The things I treasure most
Are within the fields of my control
I am the same
Yet different.

Conflict is my Nature
Cunning is my Strength
Passion is my Art.
Now I am strong enough
To bear both pen and sword
I'm back

1
i was in third grade when i was walking with my cousins who were thirteen and newly matured when men screamed at them
i was told not to worry that when i was old
they would do it to me, too
that it would happen to me someday soon
i would get the privilege of a man honking at the sight of my legs

i was in 4th grade when my choir director would wipe my tears and tell me
i wasn't fat when everyone else told me i was
i had the prettiest voice and i
could go digging for chocolates in his pockets
for being the best girl

i was in 6th grade when a boy in art class would slide his hand up my thigh while the teacher wasn't there
he hated me he said
i was fat

it was 6th grade when i was followed home by the man in the yellow house but everyone still says i was just scared
he still looks at me funny

i was in seventh grade when i blushed at my first cat call and held it with pride
i was old enough for this now
some boys didn't think i was fat i was a prize
i told everyone

it was seventh grade when i was at my locker
there was a breath on my neck
close your legs it smells like fish

i was seventeen when i thought i had My Own Moment
how bad do you want it he said
i think you're bleeding he said

i was in the eleventh grade when i tried to make it stop
shhh just enjoy it
i still wear those underwear

i want to know why i hate my body and crumble in fear when i see it
why did i hold my belly and ask my mom if i was fat
at age three

2
i was eighteen when i started ******* to correct the mistakes
taking off my clothes for the men who ask to see my ***** on a pixelated cellphone screen
i'm not allowed to linger on anyone's skin

my purpose on this earth is not to make you ***
there are fires inside me that you could never put out

do not **** me while on a conquest for something better
i am not available at the gas station
on your pit stop to a better place

i want to be ****** in my favorite dress
by someone who takes the time
to learn my last name

i would like to cover my face with flowers so i am masked with something pleasant
we sleep with pillows between our legs because it mimics the feeling of you (i hope)

you are a touch i have never felt

if i was a flower i would be gifted with every touch

a short beautiful life that gets to crumble away when ready