Some days I wish

I could forget my name.        

For a few seconds

A few minutes

A few days,

I wish I could

Shed myself of these petty constraints                           

That I call my personality.

Then maybe

I could get some sleep.

 

Some days I wish I could be

Just another brown eyed girl on the street,

Not plagued with this beautiful insanity

That occupies my every second

My every inch

Until there is no space in my lungs

And I can only breathe in

The colors that invade my mind

The words that slide between my ribs like

Knives ,

And my own hand is the traitor.

 

Some days

I want to forget my name

And my face

And everything that ties me

To this life.

Some days

I want to be anyone but me

Because being myself

Can be so

Maddening.

 

Some days I wonder

Who decided I could be Atlas,

The worn pillar holding the sky in place

On weary shoulders.

I wish I could collapse

And let the clouds come tumbling down

But that’s not who I am,

And I can’t seem

To forget that.

 

I am an artist,

Held by some unnamed sense of duty

To share myself with a world that has beaten me down,

brought me to my knees time and again.

I have shattered my soul

To scatter its pieces along my path

Like broken footsteps to lead others

To some promised land

I’m still not sure exists,

 

And I am a girl

That paints pretty pictures,

And writes sad verse after sad verse,

Like questioning hymns,

Never ending.

I am the yellow daughter

Of a brown man and a white woman

I am the proud bearer of a rainbow banner,

Queer in a world with no color,

I am the catalyst of great things

That haven’t happened,

I am more a name

I am a soul,

Discontent,

Unanswered.

 

But some days

I wish

I could forget my name.

For a few seconds

A few minutes.

Some days

I just want to be

Nothing,

Content,

Answered.

Then maybe,

Just maybe

I could get some sleep.