ONNA B

At the end of the day, "I'm not looking for forgiveness, and I'm way past asking for permission."  I am taking back what is mine and that is my truth and my shine.  My pen is my weapon and my voice is my sheath. I rise like the summer heat. My road, while riddled with dissension, is fueling my ascension to levels way beyond my reach. May I never peak on my quest for perfection. I keep pressing onwards living in my peace along the way shedding pieces of who I used to be. Always evolving there is no stopping me. Let me introduce myself, I am Onna B. 

So this is what living in a bubble feels like
Encapsulated, suffocating on an algorithmic level. 
A sphere of  entrance, no exit, just me and my plight, 
I fight to be seen in this content machine. 

The Air is thin, my lungs scream, I’m gasping, grasping, 
fighting for my life.  
I’m fading fast, blink and it’s past
how can one last?

It’s the click, the scroll, our minds are left behind,
Nothing sticks, nothing hits, it’s all on rewind. 
Fresh thoughts? Gone.
Original? Faint.
We’re cogs in the machine, but no one shows restraint.

I sip my tea, 
I tap my phone,
Watching the world copy, swipe, and clone.

It’s a race with no finish, a loop with no start,
Still, I dig my heels and guard my heart.

Metaphors bubble up, yeah I know it’s a cliche,
But hell, they’re mine, so let me have my say.

I breathe anyway, 
resist anyway,
I make room for me in this digital fray.

Onna B never left. 
She’s here to stay.