Poets logo

White Widow

The Beginning

By Breanna RogersPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
1

Imagine you were a fish & you had to learn how to swim in oil. I know , impossible. Thrown out into the world like the pack of wolves it was. Why am I here ? I didn’t ask to be born was a question I never got an answer to. Raised in the ghetto, I was a diamond in the rough, the needle in the haystack , the white owl in the night. Lots of bark & hard bites. I wasn’t the fliest, I never knew how to fly a kite but I know how to write. I was always the highest, frisky, the feistiest. Thought it was cool to be mean cause that’s what I was shown. Family , friends & even the man down the road. Imagine trying to something so consistently & frequently, and it never works out. Imagine wanting to die and the only person healthy is you. I was my biggest enemy. Was is consistent in my vocabulary now & days. I was broken down BAD,shattered like those extra tiny pieces of glass. Then it hit me. I’ll never be happy if I don’t be the REAL ME. So I had to bury some things in order to go back to me. I had to kill my ego , I’ll do the time for me. Now I’m happy & I Glow , I’m a White Widow.

slam poetry
1

About the Creator

Breanna Rogers

Majority would call me an old soul , I would agree only on that end. Southern girl , Born in a small town named Latta, SC. I’m a Ball of chocolate with a surprise inside. Full of words & magic. Ready to take on the world & it’s humans.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.