Finding Me.

In moments of wait,
When I, turned up
Against the ticking clock,
Tick- tock, tick- tock,
Grow scared and weary,
Alone, and forgotten,
Waiting for hope,
Waiting for joy,
Waiting for love,
And promises and dreams;
I suck on breath,
Yet I wait to die–

I am always waiting;
For inchoation, for the end.
Through cacophonic melodies
Chaos and peace
Dawn turns to dusk
Hide, seek; moments become memories.
So I get lost sometimes
In the endless wait;
Who was I, who am I,
And even tomorrow,
Will I matter?

More questions, and I wait
Again. Waiting is lonely,
And Change empties me,
Yet I wait, again and again–
For the excitement of anticipation
The numbness of uncertainty,
The chance of a new beginning,
Alone, by myself.
Because people
Take away the magic–
Of the frantic heartbeat
And the wrecking nerves,
The praying lips
And the eyes, awake and keen.

I wait,
For every time I get lost
In the sudden swiftness of change
I find myself a little bit more.


This poem was first featured as a guest post on the wonderful Madam Zika’s page. It was a rare pleasure and I want to use this opportunity to thank her for it, once more. Thank you, and God bless you immensely Zika ma’am. <3!


© The Short Black Girl, 2015.


4 thoughts on “Finding Me.

      1. It is I needing myself my sister……..I do not even have enough time for myself….lovely poem…quite a paradox but what a revelation! It is in losing ourselves that we discover ourselves….

        Liked by 1 person

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