16 September 2013
You already know what happened to me today, so I’m not going to draw it out. That is one letter I do not relish writing, but a necessity, as I’ve said.
This is a poem that is not about me, not nearly about me, not about my life, not like anything that happened. A lot of times I come across poems and loved them instantly because I knew it was mine, it was written for me. This is not one of them, but I love it just the same. Because it speaks of truths I can relate to, because it speaks of spaces that we occupy, of the things we inherit whether we like it or not, of hurts that you grow up with.
I am in the audience, I am moaning and groaning with them, I am clapping my hands because yes, yes, yes.