Confidence

“Are you a confident

being?” my teacher

asks of me,

my face approaching

a mirror I’d rather not see.

   

“Being of what?” I reply,

rapping the blackboard

my mind picks up chalk

and I write: “A tale

of confidence.” 

   

“It’s the story 

we need to hear,” I am told

on repeat, like a pop song

on the radio I want to repress

yet memorize and shout.

   

“Being,” 

I repeat.

“Being, me.”

   

The rap slows,

my mind stops,

and I start smiling. 

 

August 8, 2014