And There I Am

And there I am

Sitting prettily with my ankles crossed

Frilly socks folded down just so,

shiny black patent-leather shoes,

skirt splayed out perfectly around me

A buttoned cardigan fitting trimly

Hands folded peacefully in my lap

Patiently waiting

and there I am

At the age of six with red lipstick

to bring out my best color

Hair easily framing my round face

What thoughts were flying through as I am posed

In place for this portrait

What questions do I have,

 what stories do I have to tell?

and there I am

Could I have imagined all that I would know?

That not everyone would respect me,

I would be violated for just being myself

Unknown,

no consideration for me as a person

And somehow I became an object

not worthy of having dreams

treated because of how I looked

and relegated to the exotic,

not possessing smarts and savvy

And there I am

giving in to the stereotypes for a time

Thinking I was less than,

that something was wrong with being me

And for a time believing

in these false persistent images

No one to tell me,

no one to tell me differently

And there I am

Surviving the lies and the stereotypes

Challenging the reasons for the falseness

Shedding the layers of silence

Heavy for too long, shedding slowly,

Gaining momentum as the stories snake forth,

Building, coiling and springing open

free to strike

And there I am

no longer sitting quietly with hands in my lap,

ankles crossed, patiently, perfectly waiting.

Writing furiously for lost time

 to capture the stories

to record the truth,

to leave a legacy

words spilling like a waterfall,

rushing for the right words,

right phrases coughing,

choking, spewing forth

and here I am.