Sooner than I'd like to imagine,
the fragility of my humanity
will take full hold. And I
will cease to exist. And then? The world
will continue to rotate. The sun
will continue to rise and fall. The seasons
will continue to come and go.
All who have loved me;
all who I have loved,
will eventually heal. I'd only
exist in the memories of those I'd been
fortunate enough to leave behind. I promise, I
will make them count. I
will never be forgotten. They
will keep me alive.
YOU ARE READING
Where the Flowers Bloom Unwatered
PoetryA collection of poems written throughout several stages in life, journeying through the human condition through the lens of black girlhood and black womanhood.
