I am weird
But that’s only a word
for something people don’t
understand
We’re different, I’m different
I think differently, feel differently
Wild and free, my spirit is like
the depths of the sea
Very dark and very deep
Some say it’s calming
But sometimes it’s me
withdrawing
Digging into my brain to find
the clarity I once had
Looking for the stillness
I can only ever find when
swimming
Because water holds me like the ground can’t
And I know I will get
To the bottom of the deep sea
somewhere in me
Who knows what’s down there
So many different versions
Ever flowing, ever changing
Is there a right one?
One that knows herself
loves herself
knows her worth and all she deserves
And I will get there…

I am always changing
Looking to become the person
That I want to be

I think more of what I do
Than who I am because
Definable doesn’t feel real to me 

I know myself based on
where I go and who I interact with
Using my practice to process and see

How to love, nourish and really know me
Between my spirit and society’s pre-conceptions
Between my anxiety and my autonomy, between

I am someone’s sister
Someone’s daughter
And someone’s friend

I am, I am, I am.

I am a rambunctious queen
Change maker, legacy maker
Planting seeds of justice and watching them grow
Walking in my blackness for all to see, all to know
Because my children need to walk through
this world and know they are not beholden
to a society that doesn’t give
a fuck
about them
And if you can’t, don’t or won’t see colour
Then you’re missing the point
You’re missing the heart and the art
Of a skin soaked in sun and history
I challenge you to get uncomfortable
To sit through that burning sun and vicious rain
Because like those seeds,

that’s where your growth will come from.

I am effervescent some days 
Exhausted on others
A spoon in a bowl of energy
Spinning, twirling, a spoon dancing
A sympathetic, kinaesthetic response
in my body to life’s music

A spoon as anchor
Thudding down to the bottom
of the ocean, carrying, holding
Everything in place, your head, your spine
But I don’t want to be your linchpin

See me clearly, full of wonder
Despite my cynicism

See me truly, ever faithful
With some confusion

See me really, a bibliophile
Who rarely reads enough or gets enough
of the rhythm of turning pages
Slow blinking eyelashes
Deep bated breath
A sympathetic, kinaesthetic response

Am I always the eldest daughter
The unknowing vessel of responsibility 
Sometimes thriving, sometimes sinking
Under the weight of a hundred books, a thousands words
The mother hen
The man of the house
Strong, opinionated, fiercely loyal
Outspoken, big sister, spoon and anchor

Yes, but I get tired.

I am not who you think I am
And maybe that’s not your fault, you see
Perhaps I unwillingly, unwittingly
Crafted a person who was always there for you
Even though you never showed up for me

And about that pivotal moment
It hit me like a revolving door
Closing to empty jokes and empty friendships
And opening to the things that bring me joy
Saying no, like I’d never done before

I realise now more than ever
I need to stop filling my cup til it overflows
So old friend, I am not a free ride anymore
And if you can’t keep up, then get off
I’m done wearing your problems like old clothes

Instead I’m being me, honestly
Accepting the changes in who I am
Going with the flow of my own soul
And I feel lighter, but I don’t feel any loss
I’m prioritising me, I hope you understand.