I, what

there’s this thing that’s always going around

people, namely me, caught trying to “find themselves”

i think i’ve “found myself” a million times

through lines:

1. of songs that made it to my wrapped list, each year acknowledging just how low things can go

2. clubs, actually only 1 actually, because i correctly guessed it “wasn’t for me”

3. farmers markets, waiting for a fresh croissant before work

India.Arie

said she’s not

hair

skin

i nodded in the back of my mother’s car, looking out the window

at the same time she says “i am not your expectations”

i go “can we stop for a happy meal”

now i’m a leaving my first high school dance before it pops

and i listen to it,

remembering my short hair being laughed at in front of everyone

remembering that time I tried to put my own concoction on my skin overnight

i think i was sniffling when she said, ““i am not your expectations”

now i’m, older, yeah

and ive loc’d my hair

and ive kissed my dark arms instead of biting

and i'm listening to her

and i’m singing, getting ready to go out

but I go:

i hair

i skin

cause i don’t wanna separate, i just wanna love

i finally hear “i am not your expectations”

i stop

i “oh”

and i’m now I pay bills

and I think ive created myself

about a million times

and tomorrow,

again

when i open another playlist, join another line, listen to what im not and saying “hey, just maybe i am”

and ill get ready for another something,

and catch her song in my own throat

and go

“oh, I never heard her say how

i soul”