What am I without the words swirling around my mind, waiting for a chance to burst forth and explode on paper? I am the essence of the letters that form words and the words that form sentences and the sentences that form paragraphs and the paragraphs that form papers and the papers that form books and the books that transform lives. I am all that exists within the pages, eagerly turned, hungry, desperately reaching for that next word that will give meaning to the why and what. It is breathing, this thing with the pen, can not separate the two, can not separate me, it is the breath of my life.
This isn't mine anymore
What?
This.
She stretched out her hands
the parcel neatly wrapped
brown paper
with a
red bow
What is this?
Take it, it is your's.
But
No, it is not mine to carry
Anymore
What do you mean?
I mean that I am giving it back
it was never mine
anyway
I don't understand
You never did.
I don't want it.
Take it.
No.
So she
dropped
it
right
where
she stood.
And turned
and walked away.
The package was never her's to hold.
So she let it go.
Tayé Foster Bradshaw is the poet's nom de plumme. She resides in a suburb of St. Louis surrounded by her family, her books, her pens, and her lattes.
This poem is inspired by the lives and burdens of many women, particularly women of color, who are forced to carry the cares, thoughts, and expectations of others without regard to their own wants, needs, and health. This poem is a release.
What?
This.
She stretched out her hands
the parcel neatly wrapped
brown paper
with a
red bow
What is this?
Take it, it is your's.
But
No, it is not mine to carry
Anymore
What do you mean?
I mean that I am giving it back
it was never mine
anyway
I don't understand
You never did.
I don't want it.
Take it.
No.
So she
dropped
it
right
where
she stood.
And turned
and walked away.
The package was never her's to hold.
So she let it go.
Tayé Foster Bradshaw is the poet's nom de plumme. She resides in a suburb of St. Louis surrounded by her family, her books, her pens, and her lattes.
This poem is inspired by the lives and burdens of many women, particularly women of color, who are forced to carry the cares, thoughts, and expectations of others without regard to their own wants, needs, and health. This poem is a release.
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