by Janaya Anokye

A girl thinking she can outdo me

figuring out the space to get my

anger out of me, my vulnerabilities

tell me to keep up just to spit my

resentment to grudge over can’t

stand above in all parts of my

body across to the side, confused

to cut like blood drips to the floor

fearing the unpleasant sense of space

of hope when it ends clockwise to

the bottom room turns around, my body