I FEEL BUT DON’T KNOW

What is this?

Is this the smell of freshly baked pride

With the lingering aroma of arrogance?

Is this confidence

With a rich topping of self-esteem?


Or is it none?


Why do I barge into men’s words like a bandit

To steal their thoughts?

Why talk so much about me

Like a record set on repeat?

Why give compliments like a pendulum that must return?


Why do I mull over words spoken about me

Like a blender went off in my brain?

Why seek praise like pregnancy cravings,


And react to every raise of brow, like baby’s skin to bacteria

Why abhor “vulnerable”

Like the masquerade

That chases in dreams?


Is this pride,

Or inferiority coated with false confidence?

Borrowed audacity coming with interest

Cause when this tree falls,

Every interest will fix on me—

And my footprints

Of timidity


So am I proud or shy?

Is this faith wrapped fear,

Or pride coated confidence?


None feels right

And left to me,

I know not

What’s wrong with me

So I’ll pray some more

And some day I’ll be none


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