Coming of Age (Black girl)

Writing from a place of darkness. Sharp with perpetual pain and starkness. A place I never imagined existing. Splintered with sorrow and uncertainty, in a vague reality. Wishing I had a remnant of self-actuality. Who am I? Where does potential dwell? Off the shore of an Atlantic Beach, white sands stick to the bottoms of my feet; grass grows in between the dunes. The royal blue waves crash and then cling to the edges of the land. I stand where the two meet. I sing a song. Hoping an ancestor will hear me and sing along. A shadowed figure emerges from the water. It’s skin purple, blue, and brown like mine. Rising from the deep blue like a statue. Broad shoulders, long neck, and braided hair. She manifests herself. Listening closely, right beneath the waves, I hear promise and familiarity, that I am out there, somewhere. She says I must know all of who I am. Writing from a place of closeness within me. Touched with intimacy and knowing. A place I never imagined existing.