Awesome Doesn't Cut It

I grew up with a mother as my father who never knew her own but she loved me and my sisters with fists and kisses so our children will know theirs.
I grew up with a mother who made her daughter's mistakes for them so they could be queens and she will never know how awesome she is.

I was raised in a world where a pen is cheap, and though I stutter when I speak when I write my voice is flawless and no one can shut me up.
As I write my chest is tight and I am on the verge of tears because I am alive and afraid and free telling my story and someone will know and that is awesome.

I am cursed with a heart that cannot make up its mind with urges that bleed into the other and people say I'm afflicted but I can feel hate and happiness and emptiness and love because I am human.
With my bipolar heart I was given arms to hold my mother and lips to tell her I love her and that is awesome.

My body is a painting of scars but there is room for more because my story isn't over and that is awesome.

Sometimes I feel ugly and twisted but I know I am beautifully broken because my mother told me so and I can blow myself a kiss to remember how awesome I am.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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