coprolite like diamonds
she walks into the light
bold and daring
she owns it
wearing coprolite like diamonds
she knows her roots are not made in mansions
but from moving around
slum to slum
and month to month
she owns her past and wears it on her wrists
her neck
hanging from her ears
you can take the girl from the hood
but you can't take the hood from the girl
it created her strength and her daring
she doesn't want to pretend this future
so coprolite it is
knowing full well her shit is on display
so she writes her poems
sharing pieces of herself
day by day
and bit by bit
hoping
praying
her truth isn't too much
doesn't tarnish her now
doesn't scare off too many
or ruin the day
again