A glaring look inward
A scathing critique
Of my soul
What have I done?
What will I do
In the time
I am given?
Am I capable?
Am I culpable?
Given only
So much thread
What story
Will I weave and
Add to the tapestry
Of my ancestry?
Is it good enough?
Does it blend
Or should it
Stand out?
A scream of red
Across the sheet
Or a wave of blue
Hugging the edge?
Will I tear the seams
Or mend?
My mother
Never taught me
To sew
I reap
The consequences
For a lifetime
Teaching myself
As I go

— B.

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