I’ll be honest.

My grammar is not always the best, and most times I could give a damn about punctuation.

I try to fully enunciate every word,

without pieces of my upbringing giving away the best of my kept secrets.

My head is perpetually held high,

just enough to intimidate the unsuspecting, even when my spirits are low.

I’ve learned to adapt to my surroundings,

meticulously like a chameleon,

muting colors when necessary, fading blues to the lightest shades of violet.

I said that I was tired, so my body forced me to pause.

I wanted to keep the same momentum;

I didn’t want to give anyone time to forget my name.

In constant pursuit of relevancy, I pushed beyond my own limitations.

I was present, just to be present.

Then I felt as if I were operating from someone else’s playbook, following someone else’s lead.

I had to remind myself,

nothing works for me when it’s not for me.

My body is waving a white flag in surrender.

In order

to preserve my creativity,

I must rest.


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