My ConfessionĀ 

T’was not work
Creating you,
Inside my mind.
I felt you arrive,
Every. Single. Time.
Me, creative soul
Turned prima dona, maybe.
Mostly, a simple woman.
You laid upon my heart
With your words.
Not for me, you insisted,
But I took them as my own
Because without them
I was still ordinarily alone.
More than anything,
I didn’t want to be.
A shame,
For I am audacious,
Clearly seeing
Myself now
And I love me.