This next guest post is by The Short Black Girl, who simply wants to be known as Me. Me writes from her soul and you can tell she has a beautiful heart. In this poem about self-discovery, you will meet her and perhaps understand that all of us have our foibles, no matter what facade we exude. Enjoy!
Finding Me
In moments of wait,
When I, turned up
Against the ticking clock,
Tick- tock, tick- tock,
Grow scared and weary,
Alone, and forgotten,
Waiting for hope,
Waiting for joy,
Waiting for love,
And promises and dreams;
I suck on breath,
Yet I wait to die–
I am always waiting;
For inchoation, for the end.
Through cacophonic melodies
Chaos and peace
Dawn turns to dusk
Hide, seek; moments become memories.
So I get lost sometimes
In the endless wait;
Who was I, who am I,
And even tomorrow,
Will I matter?
More questions, and I wait
Again. Waiting is lonely,
And Change empties me,
Yet I wait, again and again–
For the excitement of anticipation
The numbness of uncertainty,
The chance of a new beginning,
Alone, by myself.
Because people
Take away the magic–
Of the frantic heartbeat
And the wrecking nerves,
The praying lips
And the eyes, awake and keen.
I wait,
For every time I get lost
In the sudden swiftness of change
I find myself a little bit more.