She should have another name,
This woman who lies inside me
She pops out when irate
Or in fury.
But she is me.
This woman is a goddess.
I’m in awe of her, that sarcastic motherfucker! She can spill words with abandon
And not lie tongue tied.
But she is me.
Slaying with a dagger forged out of locution,
She breaks your defences down
With sarcasm and metaphors,
Ah, she is the slam poet,
Not I.
But she is me. Who is this woman
Who comes in like a hurricane
When I need to huddle
But stand up
And face the storm That shakes me?
She is me.
Janet Orlene