Elizabeth Mudenyo
the way I keep coming back
I’m sure a part of me has stayed
at age 12 I walked gaze lowered
until my best friend told me not to
and looking back I want to unfurl
my fingers bent on impossibility
my head filled with futures for
somebody else and their body
I did the work of becoming and
erasing myself as a teenager
(making myself by omission)
building over stories but the
main tenants were unwavering
there’s something to moving
past wanting to be nothing
there’s something to growing
out of feeling small
something sweats through all the layers
bursts and unbuttons out of uniform
I am not afraid of falling prey to loitering
debt bad grades men parents disappointment
I am not caught in transit between authorities
feeling like property down to my hands
done misplacing longing with apology
leaving real friends over emails
perhaps too quick to unstick and try again
too stubborn to turn past my shoulder
when I circle back I raise
the parts of me I know there
Elizabeth Mudenyo is a poet, artist and arts manager based in Toronto. She was a fellow of the 2018 Poetry Incubator, and an organizer with Writing While Black. Compelled by intersectional narratives of Black joy and mental health, she is working on her first poetry chapbook.
