By Janise Johnson, Virginia State University
I am a mess
Both inside and out
Contradictions run amuck
Who I want to be
Conflicted with who I am
Uncertain about who I need to be
No one knows the real me
You perceive only the facets I choose to reveal
Because the truth be told,
You don’t want to dig that deep
Into this battered soul
Full of misguided, misled innocence
With moments of guilt and shame
Unknowingly
But knowingly
Right, wrong, and indifferent
I carry my mess
Holding onto it like a mark of distinction
I went through this
I went through that
All protecting me from new experiences
Meeting new friends
Revisiting old acquaintances
Protection and survival mode
It is all relative knowledge I hold
About the Author
Janise Johnson, Virginia State University
Janise Johnson is a senior transfer student and Creative Writing major and Virginia State University. She is an Army veteran, a mother, a grandmother, and a retired federal employee. She is also a business owner and has written the first edition of her monthly newsletter, “The Black Veteran.”