Hour Nine Autobiography of a face prompt (Untitled)

I won’t do it!


I will not write another woman’s poem

any more than I will wear another woman’s face.


This is my voice,

my words are my person-hood.


Buddha suggests that, in the time before my birth,

I was no one. I merely was.


The Watcher-Behind-My-Eyes,

nameless, thoughtless, full of empty


but then! I tore screaming into the conscious world

on a spume of blood and light.


Since then I have been Sara,

fought for and won,

and this has been my birthright:


to say my own words, tell my own story.

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