I learned that pain turns into shame and shame turns into secrets,
So I found my purpose to turn my pain into poetry
By feeling all of my feelings because on the other side of them is freedom, hope, and healing.
The freedom to express vulnerability with every breath I take
because the grace of God reminds me that I’m priceless and the apple of God’s eye.

This kinky, curly-headed brown skin
Adorned in the richness of my Nigerian roots unfurls the saying, “Naija no dey carry last.”
With every strand of my hair has a story to be told
lies in my DNA with wisdom, to carry light in the midst of darkness.
So you see, I’m freer than I’ve ever been to paint not some but all the colors of me
like blue that whispers peace, like the calm waters and the skies.
Red to represent my love, passion, and fearless spirit that shines so bright.
Purple to remind me that I’m kin to His royal blood that runs through my veins,
And gold to represent the beautifully broken pottery that was nursed back to life,
looking more exquisite than ever before.

I heard that without revelation, there is no transformation,
Like the transformation that has eyes glued to the mirror, looking past me, at the past me.
Since I discovered that the best art comes by embracing the pain,
So it’s why I write these poems to prove that my trauma didn’t bury me; it planted me to thrive,
Like a tree planted by the rivers of living water, which captures not some but all of the beauty of my brokenness.
Since I learned that pain, just like secrets, can only control you if you hold them within.