who knew milk would be an umbilical chord
black and white like ink in my mother's notebook
the man with whom i have no memory, leaves forever
MTV and finding god in a candy shop
why do the other children laugh at my hair?
becoming a sister, whatever that means.
body odor and breasts means womanhood
falling in love with music in the bathtub
environment is: period blood mistaken for a gun shot
moves to california and the sun becomes my favorite mirror
writing becomes breath
summer nights; melted ice cream between my thighs
a man's gaze becomes validation
lose your virginity and lose your self worth.
a new city by the water. discovering my pisces moon
making friendships out of open wounds
leave and never look back.
turn 18 in a city that swallows and fills me
confidence will kill the flies around you
your first abortion will leave you empty
glimpse of hope in Harlem, the bottom of the bottle
domestic abuse becomes your catalyst
write like your life depends on it.
re-birthing, still milk on my tongue