Hatching

The following is one of my most personal pieces; it continues to be relevant today, even after some time has passed since I first wrote it. I go back and read it at times when I need purposeful reminders, to rock me gently in rhythm, color, and verses, and keep me steady.

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I lie awake,

Restless in my dreams to be

Envisioning my future

Memorizing a grown me

Will I be happy?

Will I make my mamma proud?

Have my daddy finally see me?

 

I feel tongue-tied and web-toed

Uncaged, yet contestably unborn

Altered, but merely processed into a mold

Breaking away, only later to refold

Will I write my own story?

Or is it already told?

I still lie awake, at an impasse in undefined road

 

My memories of girlhood

Are yellow in their ennui

And naïve in their bold red

Disillusioned blue, shades of grey unclaimed

Untamed words of poetry

Reined in subtleties of selfhood

Back then, I dreamt in images borrowed

 

My narratives of womanhood

Are in free indirect discourse

Lucid in the solace of the internal

Cautious in the sways of the corporeal

Conscious in the reverie of the informal

Coarse in the intimacy of the external

And irreverent of the rules of the formal

 

I lie awake,

Formless in my self-to-be

Reclaiming the ghosts of my past

Composing memoirs of where I’ll be

Coloring what the future holds of me

I will be happy.

I will make my mamma proud.

Have my father know me.

 

-Red37

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