The Loop

Driving the loop,
Just to come back home.
Once my destination was a no go,
The scenery became the highlight.
Taking turns and noticing things I had not on previous trips here.
In awe of the view out my window,
There is so much out there
That I am kept from,
Trapped in here
In thought,
Immobile with fear, anxiety and sorrow,
Thoughts twisting and turning, on bends and hills, and slopes; looping,
Like the Acadia road,
But void of the scenery 

I am working my way out,
Edging toward the door,

To be in the world,
To be free of the cycle of this loop.

Duress

I was critical of my result,
Fearful I was deemed less
Progressive,
less inclusive,
Less open-minded,
less accepting,
less anti-racist,
Less,
Less
Than I see myself,
Than I wish to be,
What can I fix?
What can I make be
What I know is more authentically
me?
But check,
Check one,
Check one, two, three,
There’s more to the picture than I had perceived,
There’s a place I reside where I am alone,
Where shielding my differences
Is how I make this
Safe–“home”,
More comfortable than were I out bearing all,
Being me,
Being free,
I’m enclosed in the wild open,
Still a black girl in Maine,
A rare, wild specimen,
Afraid of being tracked,
Tagged,
hunted by the
Majority,
whom I’m swimming in,
Marginality makes me weary,
Getting closer to authenticity is my aim,
But duck and weave is the game,
I am no less,
Just extremely
stressed,
Identity under duress