GROWING PAINS

i am skin stretched tight over

old bones that ache,

growing pains

from over 21 years of settling

into themselves.

 

i am dark curls

soft

springing from my head

wild;

untamable.

 

i am bushy eyebrows

and big eyes,

deep

not brown,

but copper and golden

in the sun.

 

i am small hands

and long fingers

delicate

but strong,

precise enough

to pick the pieces of myself

up off the ground

if and when i fall apart.

 

i am scars

and stretch marks,

deep as canyons

running like rivers,

braille stories.

 

i am mile-long legs,

spider-like and thin

holding up the foundation

of my being,

shaky

but sure.

 

i am human

and i am flawed

but i know my worth—

i’ve paid dearly for

every ounce of it.

life, poemsasha bailey