Sometimes, I look back and laugh at how
close I hung to the end of the rope
of low self-confidence; other times, I cry
because I didn’t know or see my strength
my self-worth suffered. All that time, I thought
I was weak, and nothing good would ever
come out of being “a good woman,”
my uniqueness stands out.

I’ve spent many years living in lust,
chasing after an empty feeling
disappointments were a regular treat
a long line of failed attempts at love
stained my cheeks. I fought so hard to keep
something that was only real in my naïve mind
it was embarrassing the many times
I went back, craving more out of nothing
I was truly convinced, “Mr. Right” was right
around the corner with only missed calls
and unanswered texts coming from my end
of the line; like a fool, I ignored all the obvious
signs of being played and used
to get to the next level.