Still learning to find who it is I see when I look in the mirror.
Still learning to find meaning in failure and success.
Still learning to say my name in a kinder way.
Still learning to taste what my mother tongue really is like in my mouth when I talk to my grandfather and the guiding lights before him.
I’m sometimes broken to pieces by the way I speak to myself.
I need to breathe more. Smile more.
To find the octave in which my soul expresses empathy.
I forget sometimes.
By Frank Malaba