By Aniya Baker (BCPSS student)
Decision making creates my identity
But my indecisiveness is what will eventually break me
This is what I believed, but now my identity holds no shape
and my mind is unable to fathom even the idea of making a decision
Who am I when I no longer use your truth?
A question yet to be answered
As my mind continues to fail, I extend my hand
reaching into the abyss that lies in front
only to be rejected
and told I have not lived a long enough life to feel these emotions
“You aren’t working hard enough”
“You just need to focus on school”
“I’ve been through worse than you”
So I take the feedback and follow directions
Pouring my all into what I am led to believe will fix me
Not knowing that once again
the demon of indecisiveness has laid her hands upon me
I don’t understand why
Why am I not better yet?
I worked and worked as you asked
Even until my hands could no longer write the words you beg for
My mind a hollow crater, filled with nothing but your commands and demands
You force your words and help down my throat
Until I can no longer speak
Papers, pens, pencils and volleyballs make me choke
On my salty tears of regretful decision making
I hold no shape as if I am water
Until I am pushed by you into a classroom, onto a court, into my room, into my head,
that holds no thoughts
A continuous motion
the verbal representation of the mind I have placed upon my head
As beautiful as the ocean, but as violent as the storm that wakes inside
Taking your truth and belittling myself
Your truth hurts, and now everyone denies my mental health
Including myself
You’ve painted a picture of me in your mind a thousand times
Of what you wish could represent me
Only in the end to realize you’ve already erased me
Again and Again forcing your words and dreams to slip off of my tongue
For 15 years, six months and 5 days
I contemplated whether my existence was ever worth the fuss
Leaving me with a feeling of numb
That would force me to confront, and restart
As I walk down the aisle, time reverses and I relive all of my curses
Face to face with you and the questions I’ve refused to pursue
Who are you when you no longer hide your truth?
What could you become when you no longer hold his truth?
Aniya, who are you, when you no longer hold their truth?
Aniya Baker is a 9th grade student at the Baltimore Leadership School for Young Women. Aniya is deeply passionate about history, law, social justice, and building spaces for creatives in Baltimore City. She can be reached at abaker@blsyw.org