this is not a poem

it is a stream of words

from someone once told

“you’ll make a name for yourself”


the fortune cookie didn’t know

it would be taped to a screen

facing the team of one 

strained and broken girl 


whose moon says 

balance, business, love 

but sun says 

impulse, strength, fight 


i am an exhausted 

solar eclipse, leaving 

crescent shaped shadows

in my path