What Were We Made For?
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What am I hiding from myself?
Instruction: Read this poem gently. Read this poem ready to find. Read this poem as the poet. Remember, read this poem gently. Dear self,I come before you today,unsure of what I hide, certain of what I hide.Unsure of what I am, certain of what I’m not.Holding onto what has gone,reaching for what is yet to… Continue reading
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We were all made from Sex, weren’t we?
We weren’t.We weren’t all made from sex. I wasn’t.I wasn’t made just from sex.I wasn’t made from sex at all. Who says you were?What makes you believe you are? Sex wasn’t the beginning for all of us,but love—of some kind—was.Love for what could be,for the idea of us,for the life waiting to unfold. And yet,… Continue reading
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How much of my identity is shaped by what I’ve lost?
A little over 85% of who I amis a product of who I was bent into being—oftentimes against my will. When you’ve mastered the artof hurting and laughing.When you’ve mastered the melodyof brokenness and loss.When you’ve mastered the beautyof walking away. Your mind tends to drive along with change,on the last possible gear. Who I… Continue reading
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Becoming who I needed.
A hand to hold mine.A voice to speak over mine.A space to call safe.A footprint to follow. These and countless others are now part of who I have become. Why should life teach us all one lesson when it can teach one and have others learn from?Why should bad experience replace the air I breathe… Continue reading
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The patterns I carry.
When we’ve worn anger long enough,changing into happinessalways leaves threads of rage behind.When we quench a burning fire,smoke lingers, uncontrolled.When our eyes meet the ones they love,the smirk we wear betrays us.When we live without questioning,ignorance meets regret. These are all patterns.These are representations of for.These are proven theories of our making.This is our existence.… Continue reading
Delight Chilegide Olumati 