She answered to Destiny
but dismissed its significance
like there wasn’t any
to cling to, not that she could see
sitting at the back of the bus
because she wanted to feel lonely,
isolated from her potential
to attract the undesirable
so she tried to become
undesirable in her matted hair,
too worn jeans, and unclean
t-shirt that read
nothing, had no image—she was
nondescript by choice
and felt justified to
blend in with the ordinary who were
battered, beat down, broken, and broke
on top of it—justified; after all,
who was she to believe
her name was prophecy
and Goddess Herself had decreed
she must answer
Posted inPoetry
