i wanted to be known.
i wrote,
i read it aloud.
i rhymed,
i sang it.
i traveled.
i wanted to be accessible.
ask me anything.
i shipped my own merchandise
and made small talk at the post office.
i confessed in interviews.
i wrote books.
i included my secrets.
i signed the books.
i didn’t wear make up
and just let my face out
of the cage like a tiger.
i wanted to be coveted.
i seduced.
in school
i slipped notes in hands,
often to no one
particularly interesting.
and then realized that
singing was better.
i would sing for love.
i would be loved.
i used myself as a decoy.
still not known enough.
read my diary.
listen to my dream.
why is it so hard,
purring in all of the languages.
when will i be known.


You are known. You are loved. You are an amazingly talented artiste and you are unique. Thank you. I love you 💖
Sometimes we spend years making ourselves visible, only to discover that what longs to be known cannot be reached by exposure alone. Your final question stayed with me long after I finished reading. Thank you.