By Rita Nketiah. Illustration by Xonanji

this city makes me skittish
i have shrunk
i have gone into myself
here,

i have faced demons head on.
i have been lonely.
i have sat in the dark facing myself.
picked at toenails
not showered for days.

not cooked for weeks
touched myself
on the inside parts
huffed and puffed
balled fists in tear-filled corners
raised fists hiding rouge-coloured nails
twerked
azonto’d
separated parts of me
to piece them back together
whole and holy
sound asleep
in bed for 18 straight hours
lived there for twice that length
in a town,
country,
world like this,

brown girls cover up
ears, pointy.
side profiles, looking too Akan.
too much like the ancestors.
jawline full.
not graceful.
head squarish.
sometimes
this body apologizes
too much
for what Goddess gave as gift.
for what Nature made sacred
whole and holy
And Janelle sings in the background:
to be victorious,
you must find glory in the little things.