I have a bad habit of saying things, putting them out there then taking them back. Not because I don’t mean them anymore, I always mean what I say; but because the reception was lukewarm. Have you ever eaten warm coleslaw? Or waved at someone you know with such enthusiasm then they don’t wave back?
Well that is my life, every single day.
My anxiety is so profound that even the most beautiful poems I have written for people, about how amazing I find them, about how much I pray for them, about their button noses and ebony skin or how I love their unabated aura, stays between me, my poetry folder and God.
But that’s not okay.
This is why I started blogging, to remove these layers of censorship and timidness that musk my true power.
I have not even started yet, or gotten to my layers. I am breaking my own walls and it feels so good.
Owning my voice and speaking my truth is part of the liberty I am celebrating this Madaraka day.
For we cannot truly be free if we hold ourselves back or if we let the voices in our head run things.
Owning my voice is part of my African journey and I love it.
I am unraveling in my bluffs and poetry, come join me.
Happy Madaraka Day
I call you this because when I use the letter I used for you it would be too obvious