Remove the Remy, the Revlon, and skinny jeans,
forfeit the metaphors, personifications, and similes: all that is left is me.
I am soft
From my thin black hair to my fleshy thighs,
I am insecure
From too many I love yous and urgent goodbyes.
I am scared
From the anticipation of graduation to the fate of my Fall,
I am ready
From picking my major to lessening my bank withdrawals.
I am so very young
From my ignorance to my yearn for independence,
I am much more than my thick lips and wide hips
From my faith and my wisdom to my dignity and ambitions.
I am without Filter
Coming to you bare to face what I never mention.
The more I realize who I am
The stronger I grow and my secrets turn into admissions.