Time To Spit

Three months ago to the day I did not have the confidence to spit new shit

I did not even know what new shit was 

At least in poetic sense 

I knew of the fabulous East Village café 

Watching other artists perform 

Embracing authenticity in one of my favorite neighborhoods

But not until a cold winter’s night in January did I feel confident enough to share my words aloud 

Typing away on this Mac for years and years 

Mending a broken heart with poetry 

Fusing my words and honesty into the pages 

Texting my love the stanzas 

Putting it out on social media 

Finally feeling like myself again after years of putting my heart back together 

I have never been good at lotteries 

I know that sounds odd

But luck has never been consistently in my corner 

When that artist confirmation appeared in my inbox 

I could not back down 

It was time to spit

Artist after artist one more brilliant than the next 

Each bringing their unique self to the Zoom box 

Feeling intimidated by each one 

Thinking I was not good enough to be here

But then number nineteen was called 

To be my own Advocate of Wordz

Sharing two of my favorites pieces

Refinding my Elemen2al 

I knew I had found my potastic home

And I became addicted 

The Deadpan Beanie Wearing Soul Sister Lesbian is not the same woman she was three months ago

Hell, if you told me I would be reciting erotica poetry on a Zoom calls I would have said you are mad

Thank you to this community

Thank you for uplifting me 

Thank you for the snaps

Thank you for the amazing pen names 

Thank you for making me want to come back and spit with you late into the night 

Thank you for being my family 

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