I was the girl
yearning to dance
to the drum that played
when the sun began to peak its head,
weighed herself down by what she was taught
refused to be uplifted by what was in her heart.
I shimmy at sunrise, wiggle flowers
whenever rain storms drench petals.
Bounce my footsteps with the hissing
of the trees with the auburn autumn leaves.
It’s the little things, I guess.
Snap my fingers to the cracking
of acorns from heavy and sexy heels.
Slow dance when viewing
the color palette of dusk
and hum with the rising of the moon.
I don’t withhold self-love from myself
I was once the girl yearning to be herself.
Envied the creatures who radiated
sidewalks, clicking their shoes,
squeaking their sneakers
on pavements without apologies.
I walked lightly,
ashamed of my own footsteps.
Watched phoenixes soar through the winter breeze,
burn brightly during the autumn season
and rest on cherry blossom trees.
I adore my scarred wings in the morning
and polish my beak by noon.
Let the moonlight settle my soul
to hush night time thoughts.
Force the morning hush to reawaken
what cognitive dissonance
puts to sleep at night.
Get my shoulders ready for the sun ‘cause, hot damn,
I love to shimmy with life.