A Love Letter to The Girls Like Me

To the girls like me who switch their hips, smack their lips and run loving fingers all over their body, claiming their own bodies.

To the girls who dance wildly throwing reckless abandon to the wind begging their once shy inner child to have no fear, you CAN move now!

To the girls like me who love too hard, give too much, and never get enough.

To the girls with hearts as wide as the sea that part where they call home, told to keep their knees pressed together and end up with their legs tied by the culture that indoctrinates so well they forget who they are.

To the girls looking for who they are. Searching to fill the nagging hole and gaping feeling that more is out there, within them, around them, them.

To the girls like me who speak too softly, cry too often, yet their voices land like crashing cymbals when the fire that burns within them is awakened.

To the girls who are too loud and never enough. Too visible, they fight to be seen.

To the girls never satisfied, the girls always hungry, the ones the world craves, chews up but cannot swallow.

To the girls whose flavors confuse the senses of the ordinary, who others cry a river, leaving them to wipe their own solitary drop with the fabric of woven dreams deferred.

To the girls like me who stand tall when their feet waver, the girls whose arms give the warmest embrace to the girls with aching heads and sagging breasts seeking the safety of sistership.

To all the girls like me. . . I see you.

I love you.