What make a poem good
Can you touch the goodness
It’s 12:44 AM and my tummy growl
And I want to be held by that boy who
send me heart emojis
And I still wonder if I’m too big to be
In fourth grade, Josh called me
perceiving me as
bigger than permitted
He was Just Boy, I was girl without permission
He meant harm, but Grown Josh don’t mean no harm
And I am grown, or growing,
But still, I am
inhales and tight-pressed legs and caved-in
shoulders and tongue dry from idleness
I don’t always know how to move in my
womanhood but Self says to self:
all you need to do is move.
says to self:
you’re not so exceptional that
love will never find you.
you’re not so exceptional,
that every reader will consume your words like
razorblades feigning to satisfy hunger
My stomach is growling. Sharp things are appetizing
when I feel empty Self wraps arms around Me.
I close my eyes. Dream of being satisfied.
When it’s late, sleep suffices as food.
Me and Myself drift into fullness
Find Natachi on Instagram