I'm a Growing Woman

Wednesday’s Poetry Prompt: Write an “In My Blank” poem. all in my feelings somewhere in the heart of my mind, between the mobility of the bones in my body, im all in my feelings. and i’m feeling some type of way about being ignorant of the fact that i can’t draw them by height or weight, color them by numbers or label them fast as the world label the human race and behavior. are they softer? are they brand new or old hard feelings? i’m somewhat too remorse -ful to recall, but careful to remain attracted to this ebb and flow of life. becoming more comfortable with troubled waters as i cautiously float through the tidal waves that birth joy out of pain, sprout vulnerability out of fear, and stir confidence out of confusion- keeping the lifeline of my heart in the hands of heaven, keeping my head at rest in the skies of peace while my chest is protruding, taking a million deep breaths of courage as I rotate my greatest strengths to kick, push, swim through the grooves of these indisputabl...

Wednesday’s Poetry Prompt: Write a balance poem. Libra America cross dresses as Libra but she is no innocent lady of justice. Born a Cancer,  she is an aggressive malignant tumor to her own indigenous. Her deoxyribonucleic acid make-up 250 years plus of heavy weight melanoma. She is the notorious queen pin of oppression, known for tipping the scales  of justice to outweigh  the African chattel. She breathes a declaration  of independence  but the eye of her soul sketches the roots of her insecurities. With excessive blood on her hands, she’s no natural, true beauty. Her freedom rings a far-flung rhythm of blues. Her genes never inherited the alleles of equality and liberty. Her harmony, absent from  the bodies of the children  born to her... And  We the People   only identifies as plural to the singular,  lighter version of herself. With her right hand over her heart, she lip-syncs the pledge of allegiance proudly in her Jesus' blood and...