LET ME BREATHE

There are days
I do not
want to be strong.
When I want to
own every despair
that crosses my heart.
When I want to
taste every pain
that has found a couch
in the inner corner of my thoughts.

These days I want to melt
like a butter human scuplture
having malaria.
Become one with
the mattress and duvet.
Breathe in the wamth of my breath.
and fall into sorrow
like a pack of cards.
These days I want to
be sad
And not be told to be
a strong black woman.

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