More

I'm more than what that mean scale says

More than the brands I choose to wear

Or the Tuesday when I failed to wash my face

And pulled my first white hair.

I’m more than what Natasha said

When she pointed to my sixth grade thighs

And casually observed their thickness, which

I’d spend a lifetime trying to hide.

I’m more than the follows, the likes, the hearts

I’m more than my marital status

I don’t have kids yet, please stop asking like

I’m some baby-making apparatus.

I wish they let me make business cards

So I could disencumber

Myself from the boring titles and emails

The cellphone and office numbers.

Instead, know me through my ocean-crossing parents

My sisters who could have been models

The little ones who aren’t really mine, but

I was there when they first waddled.

Ask me about my brilliant friends

How I'm better for having met them

Or the percolating thoughts between these two ears

In spite of everyone trying to suppress them.

I’ll take you to all my favorite foods

The stories that make me strong

The books in which I’d rather disappear

Than in that box you think I belong.

Rise above the fears and long-held hurts

Those thieves of present joy

The future awaits with a promising grin,

It says, “Wait ’til you see more.”