Grown Up

I am mistaken to be a damsel—the one who burns like house candles. When I light up the place as bright as a lightbulb with no sandals. I've seen the dirt in the muck of situations from what happens in place. My legacy is more than just leather and the fake. The growing up on what I left behind would be admired. I seek for better things than the creation I fired. Hatred for the mishaps I performed. My apologies, for when you're young and misguided—the trouble brings you to dark roads. That dark road brighten and reveals what it holds. No side mirror playing tricks and the split blanket folds. I reflect the black woman maturing and blooming to a flower unsold. I cannot reflect one making from darkness for it has to be a no. No is my answer. So much it's stronger than lancers. The cold honesty cannot beat the truth. I am not without harm in this with no one but me to root for. I'm kind but aggressive in my core. As soon as I quit her I meet the enemy at the door. My peace is better left untouched than shoplifted stores.