The pressure is all together too much.
They look at me, and see the possibility
of all their mistakes rectified - and I
am left with no option but to fail
under duress. Gun to my head.
Do they even care about who I am?
What I feel? The weight of my skin on my
soul? Or is my value left to be determined
by my skills and assets? And what am I without
either? Without expectations and prescriptions.
Am I at all?
Jagged Mountain
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" -Maya Angelou
All work written by Guadalupe Monserrat
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