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On Adulthood
Hunger is an inescapable aspect of my Black womanhood
~ Nikki Giovanni, “Adulthood II” (from Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day, 1978)
There is always something / of the child / in us that wants / a strong hand to hold / through the hungry season / of growing up
My heart is a lonely heart. It reflects the beginnings of a depression that I will learn will encompass much of my life. I live in a Black body that doesn’t know her womanhood, that doesn’t know how to see herself as herself, as a being worthy of love. I do not want to be White, but I do want to be cherished the way I imagine White girls are. I know myself only through how I believe others see me: the grown men leaning out the car while I walk to the store, the misplaced glares and words muttered under a breath of disappointment, the shame of being unable to escape the terror of the belt. I am hungry, denying myself food because my anxious gut will not allow it. I believe what others say about me, that I am sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes selfish, sometimes giving. I hunger for arms to gather me and whisper, “You are safe. You are loved.”
When she was a child / summer lasted forever / and christmas never seemed never / to come / now her bills from easter / usually are paid / by the 4th of july / in time to buy the ribs / and corn and extra big of…
