collapse

sometimes I wonder how everyone else 
seems to know 
how to move forward

while I sit here
stand here
dissociatively smile

neither here,
nor there

sometimes I wonder 
if my work is worth it

triggered in class
I collapse and remember 
I am more than my productivity

sometimes I think
my body needs fixing
pinch pick pimpled
collapsing under visions of imperfection

I haven’t eaten
or exercised
aspiring to be 
hot
enough to be worthy
of a white boy body

sometimes I think 
my worth comes from my “goodness”
but dehijaabing
means my modesty 
was taken by the community
forever collapsing under shame

sometimes I wonder
who
when
where

will I remember
I have nothing to apologize for 
I have nothing but my experience 
to own

my worth

is inherent 
to my existence

sometimes I wonder
if I am doing womanhood right

too emotional
too educated
too loud
too proud
too curvy
but not thin enough

too tired
to continue

resisting

sometimes I wonder
when I’ll give myself a breath

to 
simply
exist.

I wonder often
if I am doing womanhood “wrong”

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