I told you, that you were my garden.

SZA on repeat convinced me.

You grounded me with wisdom. You asked me questions that made me uncomfortable, agitated  my earth so that I could grow.

You watered me when I felt depleted.

Took care of me when I was busy taking care of everyone else. Told me when to slow down when I was impatient and when I wasn’t counting my blessings. Reminded me that not everyone was my friend and not everyone was my enemy.

You told me to build a fence around my garden.


That some seeds were to bloom just for me and no one else. That some were for us and no one else.

You put a mirror in front of me and showed me the good, the bad and the Godly. You loved on me intensely,  until I found more parts of myself that I loved just as fiercely.

One night, you asked me to show you the weeds. The parts that threatened the life of me. You pulled me close and pulled them out from the root. Laid them in front of me and said I could let go. You were here now.

Sometimes your pruning hurt. 

I wouldn't be shaped into who you wanted me to be and you wouldn’t be shaped into who I wanted you to be.

From the beginning we knew what we were growing was seasonal.

You had to leave and you helped heal old wounds so I won’t make you the new one.

So now I'm here, by myself.

That's what I told her.

My mother.

She inhaled deeply, like she was breathing in years of herself and let go, just to give me some.

“ You are not by yourself,” she said, finally. “You are with yourself.”

And for the first time, I remembered that I was company.

I looked in that  mirror again, with myself this time.  I thought:

That man didn’t teach you shit you didn’t already know.

The question has always been, are you good enough for you?

I’ve always poured into myself  but right as my spirit buds,  I  let my bloom get interrupted by someone with promises of more fertile soil.

Someone else reaped my harvest before I did. And afterwards,  I’d stand there staring at the dry, cracked soil that I had to turn into life.

But lately, I been burning my candles more so that I can bask in my own glow.


I been eating real healthy and eating food that leaves me round all over.

I been exercising and lounging.

I been honest with myself and lying to myself.

I been sitting with Alone long enough to know they weren't Lonely. 

I been going steady with me.

I been writing and deleting this.

I been listening to me.

I been overwhelmed, angry, annoyed and infatuated with me. Arguing with me.

Working hard on this relationship that I neglected.

Rubbing myself down in coconut oil when the day was too long.

Treating my body like it’s the first time I ever seen it.

Because it’s the first time I really ever seen it.

Staring at my bare face and wondering how incredible it is to wake up next to it.

I been  dancing, laughing  and crying tears that water and strengthen  the earth that keeps me rooted.

That grounds me.

That holds me together.

I’m keeping me down to earth.

I’m starting from scratch. And  I’ve never felt more lost and found.


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 WRITTEN WORK (click to read)