My Humanity, Our Humanity

I refuse to be ashamed of my humanity, exhausted with being told who I am supposed to be.

Isolation became my shroud, a transitional space that crafted conversations as I sought clarity.

Holding back many tears, at times I feel like Niagara, my longings leak through the cracks in the flooring.

Mistakes are made and humbly owning, some remain in shadows awaiting their signal to unmooring.

Obscenities are a love of mine, yelling to murmuring them frequently, wearing them like a fine armor.

Continue to meet myself in many forms, yet we are separated by flesh and story, fashioning increasing ardor.

Life journeyed through my vagina, she split and was sown together again like many other places in my body, made stronger from their waning.

I have met my own judgement through the windows of others, this has spurred me toward practicing love universal with less refraining.

Projecting our layers of programming and abnegation like a collective cancer.

Choosing to unlearn messaging that cultivates a false self could be the answer.

At times I have fought for my survival and yet I prefer peace, finding sanctuary in a tribe of choice.

Through oppression and trauma, I disappeared many times, eventually leading to the discovery of my voice.

Death became a vehicle, so many have I experienced and yet I remain, an effigy to rebirth.

Walled from each other through comparison charting, like a grandiosity of dearth.

Refuse to be controlled by thoughts based on scarcity for we originate from abundance.

No longer seeking forgiveness, to be human is love, and not an encumbrance.

For I am not ashamed of our humanity. I continue to seek it.