Poem: Call Me Queen


I hear people talking about pronouns she he they them xie xem OK that’s cool I too wish to be addressed properly. So let me make this clear I am not your baby girl sweety honey or boo. No. I like the sound of your Majesty. Nothing less will do. So don’t call me ma’am like some ordinary mother oh no there is no other like me. A single rare individual completely in touch with my divinity. Call me Queen, Regina, her royal Highness. The shit I have risen above, overcome reached heights higher highest call me Goddess. I bring light through the darkness like Luna. My womb rides the moon. I identify with diviner, seer, mystic, guru. So don’t come at me talking shit I am nobody’s bitch. In fact, if you mess with me, I will show you witch. Conjurer of poems that cast spells, cauldrons of soup that heal wounds. Call me baby girl one more time, I will stick you …..with voodoo. So excuse you who thought you knew how to do what talk ? to who me? no. too out of the box for common labels madam griot mistress wordsmith. I am not your little mama I don’t even ride bitch. So hear this, before you come talk to me, know these two things. I like it when you kneel and I will answer to my queen.

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