You would think the rainfall helps
me sleep. But instead I lay in resentment.
You would think your shouts
HEYBABY boost my confidence. But
instead I am reminded of
My genetic gravitational pull to pink,
tutus,
To get into a college for that MRS
degree.
Your gravitational pull to dehumanize
me because I crossed YOUR path
To disregard the, that I could be your
sister-mother-daughter argument.
HEYBABY is not a compliment.
I can still hear your insecurity.
Drip on, but the sun will come out.
Tomorrow.
