All I know is what I don't see
all around me,
all around you, this country.
Dragging me down like bottoms of feet,
wrinkled crease.
I am trying tired and fighting,
lending my hands out,
arms for longing.
Never a heart or soul bare,
Never good enough, never a person.
I am not a person, I am me,
My body moves, heart pumping,
I am the bending and broken,
Vulnerable limbs of a woman,
But with wind in my pockets,
air deep in my lungs,
I am heavy with life.
